


The Lion Sleeps Tonight

by psychicdreamsandangelwings



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alpha Rick, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt Daryl, I swear there's a happy ending, I'm Sorry, M/M, Omega Daryl, Protective Rick, Rape/Non-con Elements, The Governor is a major dick, Torture, What Have I Done, Why Did I Write This?, god there's a lot of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-02-28 12:09:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 47,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2731964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychicdreamsandangelwings/pseuds/psychicdreamsandangelwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been months without any sign of the Governor. The prison is just starting to settle down into relative peacefulness when something unthinkable happens, two of their own go missing. The Governor’s returned and he doesn't want the prison, he just wants to ruin Rick's life. He figures taking out his right hand man, Daryl Dixon, will be enough to drive him crazy. But then he sees Daryl's claim mark and figures he’s got a new way of getting to the ex-cop, torturing his omega.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I don't even know where the heck this came from. I just suddenly got the idea and bam! this happens. I'm kinda testing this story out, to see what everyone thinks about it. If people like it I will definitely continue because despite how brutal it is, I kind of like the idea.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

“I don’t like this,” Rick says softly, face nestled against Daryl’s neck. Rick's pressed so hard against Daryl it's almost like he's trying to merge their bodies into one. "I don't like this at all."

The two of them are standing in their cell, so close together their chests are touching. Daryl’s scent is sweet, sweeter than usual, and so god damn intoxicating Rick can hardly stand it. Even though he was mated, Daryl's been getting wandering looks the last few days which has only ignited Rick's possessiveness. Daryl had never gotten looks like the ones he's been getting lately and Rick sees it all as competition for Daryl's affection, despite the fact that there is no competition. Daryl wants Rick, Daryl will always want Rick, and that was the end of it. Rick's been all over him today, almost as if he was trying to bathe in his scent, and Daryl knows Rick can tell he’s about to hit his heat. Which is exactly why he was so adamant about Daryl staying at the prison instead of going on the scheduled run, it was just too dangerous. So many things could go wrong, and that's all Rick can focus on.

"You worry too much,” Daryl mumbles, hands running through Rick’s hair in an attempt to calm him down. He can’t really blame Rick for being so clingy, no matter how annoying it might be. Rick was always clingy and overprotective, he couldn't help it. It didn't matter how many times Daryl showed him he could take care of himself, Rick would always be overprotective. Rick was all alpha, strong and proud. The protective urge to protect his omega, his mate, overpowered everything else, even logic. It worsened considerably as the seconds ticked by and Daryl got closer to his heat.

Usually Daryl took suppressants, he didn’t need the bothersome heat to take over at the most inopportune of times, but he and Rick had decided they were going to try for a pup. It was a weird feeling, thinking that he might be carrying in a few days. Daryl had never, not once in his life, thought that that might be something he would want. He and Rick had never talked about it because Rick didn’t think that was something he had wanted.

However, it had hit Daryl the other day when one of the omegas who lived at the prison gave birth. He wanted that, wanted a pup he could call his own. Daryl loved Carl and Judith more than anything, would give his life for theirs in a heartbeat. Those were _his pups_ and anyone who said any different was going to have one pissed off Dixon on their hands. But, he couldn't deny the fact that they weren't his by blood, and though that didn't necessarily matter to him, he wanted a pup that was his blood, _his and Rick’s blood._ It was weird and scary and awkward to think about, but Daryl wanted a pup so badly it hurt.

The idea that he had found someone like Rick, someone that he trusted with every piece of him, who he was comfortable enough to have a pup with was a foreign concept to him. He’d learned from an early age that Alphas were a thing to be feared, that all they wanted was to dominate, claim, own. His father had used his omega status as a way to pay off old debts once he hit his teenage years, and from that moment on he had sworn off all Alphas. Daryl was okay with living his life alone, he didn't need an Alpha to take care of him, Daryl took care of himself. But then he had met Rick and everything changed.

Rick was everything you could possibly want in a mate and so much more. He wasn't one of those Alphas who wanted nothing but claiming rights to him, he didn't collect the number of omegas in heat he had taken like some others, and Rick certainly didn't expect Daryl to keep his home warm while he was out. Rick cared about him, loved him, had welcomed him into his family with open arms. He referred to Carl and Judith as his pups, called Daryl his mate, had carved Daryl his own place in his family. Rick was protective and possessive and a right asshole sometimes, but he recognized Daryl’s independence, realized he needed his space sometimes, and saw Daryl as an equal, not someone who was beneath him.

“I do not,” Rick pouts, pressing a kiss against the sensitive mating mark on Daryl's collarbone in a last ditch effort to keep Daryl from leaving. The kiss is gentle, but it ignites a fire deep inside of Daryl that he had never felt before. His skin is starting to sweat and he feels a tug at the pit of his stomach. His heat is coming and it’s coming fast. But he can’t focus on that right now, he’s gotta get food in his people right away, and to do that he needed to go on a run.

“We need food,” Daryl says, hands sliding down Rick’s neck to rest on the small of his back. “And supplies. We need this run. I won’ be gone long, a few hours tops. Ya won' even realize 'm gone I'll be so fast.”

“Let me come with you then,” Rick says, pulling away from Daryl’s neck so he can look him in the eye. “I don’t like the thought of you leaving so close to your next heat. You can’t hide it from me Daryl, I know it’s coming. I can smell it on you.” Rick rubs his face against the place where Daryl’s shoulder meets neck, right above Daryl’s mark of claim, and Rick’s beard tickled Daryl’s skin. Daryl shudders, body nearly collapsing in on himself with the amount of pleasure that's soaring through him.

“Ya can’t come,” Daryl says, stepping away from Rick. If he doesn't step away now he knows Rick’s gonna convince him to stay, and they can't afford that luxury right now. “The prison needs ya here. I’ll be fine. ’M already takin' Glenn, the two of us will be back soon.” Daryl presses his lips against Rick’s, the kiss soft and sweet. Rick's wound up tight with worry and the need to protect, all Daryl wants to do is make him feel better.

“I don’t like it,” Rick says, running a hand over his face. Daryl can tell Rick’s gonna give in, he always gave in. Technically, Rick could make Daryl do whatever he wants. All he’s got to do is use that Alpha voice of his and Daryl would be a quivering mess of an omega, desperate to please his Alpha, especially since he’s this close to his heat. But Rick had never used it, and Daryl knows he never will. Rick just ain't that type of person. “But I’m not gonna stop you.”

Daryl smiles slightly, resting his head against Rick’s forehead. He knows Rick can’t help it. His Alpha instincts are overwhelming right now, and he knows it’s a struggle for him to suppress them. The fact that Rick makes an effort to suppress them says enough about his character. “I know, and I love ya for it.”

Rick traces Daryl’s mating mark, needing to feel it one last time before Daryl took off. “Hey,” Daryl says, taking Rick’s hand into his. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

“I know,” Rick says, eyes downcast in worry. “I just have the worst feeling something bad is gonna happen."

* * *

Glenn and Daryl’s run goes well, at least for a while. They found a lot of supplies they were in desperate need of, even a few extra things they had been wanting, not needing, lately. Everything is going great, there's no problems with walkers or people a like and everything is going perfect. Daryl and Glenn get everything packed and loaded into their car, supplies safely tucked away. They're on their way back to the prison when shit really hits the fan.

Daryl and Glenn are about ten miles outside of the prison, making great time, when two cars come careening out of the woods. How they even managed to get them there in the first place Daryl will never know, but he's got to admit that they're effective. One of the cars stops behind them while the other stops in front of them, successfully blocking their path. They're boxed in, unable to get away, and Daryl knows the chances of them getting out of this are slim to none. Daryl’s in the driver’s seat, desperately trying to find a way around the two cars. It only takes him five seconds to realize they’re completely cornered, surrounded from all sides.

Daryl's mind starts racing a mile a minute, trying to think of any way they could possibly get out of this. Daryl's usually great on his feet, but nothing's coming to mind that'll get them out of this mess and he's beginning to run out of time, any thoughts of escaping leave him in a matter of seconds. Before either one of them can react, ten guys are surrounding their car, guns pointing straight at them. There's no use in fighting against the massive assembly of men, there's just way too many of them. Two to ten were never good odds, no matter how good of a fighter Daryl and Glenn are. In a matter of seconds, three guys are prying the passenger door open with so much force the car shakes. One of the men gets a handful of Glenn's hair and tugs hard on it, pulling him out of the car by his air. Glenn lets out a grunt of pain and Daryl knows they’re completely fucked.

The second Glenn’s out of the car he’s being forced onto his knees, hands behind his back with a gun pointed at the back of his skull. Daryl is hopeless to stop it. All he can do is hold his hands up in a sign of defeat and watch as Glenn is manhandled into place. All thoughts of escaping leave Daryl instantly, too afraid they men would do something drastic, like kill Glenn. As soon as Glenn’s subdued and on his knees, there’s more men opening his door and dragging him out.

Daryl fights off the men the second they touch him, Daryl Dixon wasn't an easy man to subdue. However, the man standing behind Glenn grunts to get Daryl's attention and cocks his gun, a clear threat, and Daryl knows he can't fight back, not if it was going to result in Glenn's death. They men force Daryl onto his knees beside Glenn, another gun pointed at the back of his head now, and all Daryl can think is that this is all his fault.

“Let’s talk about this,” Glenn says, trying to begin a negotiation, and the guy standing behind him slams the butt of his gun against the back of his head, sending Glenn flying forward. That's when Daryl knows that reasoning with these men wasn't going to work, no matter what the offer was. He had no idea what they wanted with the two of them, but Daryl knew he was powerless to stop it and that's what really angered him. 

Daryl watches as Glenn flies forward, head cracking against the ground with a loud thud, and suddenly he sees red. Nobody fucked with Daryl's people in front of him and got away with it. “Don’ fuckin' touch him you bastard,” Daryl screams, hands reaching out to try and help Glenn out. The second Daryl moves he can feel the guy behind him move, unsheathing the hunting knife at his side. The man brings the knife against Daryl's throat, holding it close enough to his skin to nick it. Daryl feels a drop of blood roll down his neck and suddenly he can't move. The guy next to Glenn hovers his foot over Glenn's face, threatening to stomp on the unconscious man.

“Another move and I swear, he'll stomp the chinks face in and I'll slit your throat, do not test me,” the man growls, pressing the knife harder against Daryl's throat for good measure. Daryl knows when he’s at a disadvantage, and its clear to anybody with eyes that he's at a huge disadvantage, so he gets back in place, eyeing Glenn’s unconscious body. He’s knocked out cold next to him, blood already starting to mat in his black hair and Daryl grits his teeth, too afraid to say something that'll just going to get them in more trouble.

Daryl's about to open his mouth again but he hears a voice that sends shards of ice down his spine. “Now, now, Miguel, don’t go scaring the bitch,” Daryl hears from the left of him. He recognizes that voices, doesn't think he could ever forget that voice, and for the first time since this whole fiasco started he realizes just how fucked they are. To make matters worse Daryl's starting to sweat, his sweat soaked skin heating up with every passing second. Daryl's stomach is clenching painfully and he can feel slick start to slip down his thighs.

He's going into heat, he's fucking going into heat much earlier then he suspected. Suddenly Daryl's aware that every single man surrounding him is an Alpha, their combined odor making Daryl's eyes flash with want. He can't believe this is happening to him, the first heat he has in years and it's happening surrounded by a shit ton of Alphas. It'd taken him so long, so fucking long, for him to be okay with having a heat with Rick and the idea that he was going into heat surrounded by a bunch of strangers who wanted to kill him was absolutely the worst possible thing that could happen to him. He and Rick hadn't even been able to enjoy his heat yet and it was already going to be ruined for him.

“Surprised?” the governor asks, tone mocking Daryl as he steps out from the shadows. He’s just as tall as Daryl remembered him, dark brown hair cropped short and the familiar eye patch covers his left eye. “I bet you are. I know that black bitch has been looking for me for a while now, didn’t seem to find me though, did she?”

Daryl doesn't say anything, just grits his teeth and stares up at the Governor as he towers over him, nothing but hatred in his gaze. “So we’re gonna play the silent card, huh?” the Governor says, coming to bend down in front of Daryl. "That's fine by me. The less you talk, the easier it's going to be for me to kill you."

Daryl spits in his face, snotty saliva running down the Governor's cheek. He just chuckles, completely belittling Daryl. The Governor lifts up his shirt and wipes at the spit on his cheek with the underside of his shirt. “You've got balls for a worthless knot slut,” he says, voice mocking. “I’ll give that to you.”

“You want us to kill them now, go along with the plan?” the guy behind Daryl says and suddenly Daryl’s gut is so tightly clenched he can hardly breathe. He’s terrified, but not for himself. Of course Daryl didn't want to die, but if it had to be him or one of his people he'd always chose himself. Daryl's terrified for Glenn and how the news of his death is gonna affect Maggie, Daryl's terrified that with him gone nobody is going to be able to hunt for the prison, Daryl's terrified of leaving Rick without a mate and of Judith and Carl losing another parental figure.

“Yeah, kill that one first,” the Governor says, gesturing towards Glenn dismissively. “I wanna see the look on this one's face after we kill the Asian. This is gonna fuck them up real-” suddenly the Governor stops talking, gaze focused on Daryl's collarbone.

“What’s this?” the Governor asks, pressing his fingers painfully against Daryl’s mating claim. The touch sends a shiver of a pain down his spine and Daryl can't hold back the whine that escapes his mouth. No other Alpha, besides his, is supposed to touch his mark. It’s sensitive and the touch from anyone else but Rick would always cause him pain. The Governor presses his face against Daryl’s neck, inhaling deeply. Daryl tries to back away from him but the Governor’s hand threads its way through Daryl’s hair, tugging sharply to keep him in place, and the guy standing behind Daryl is pressed up against his back so he can’t move.

“Oh this is rich,” the Governor says, laughing hysterically. He pulls away from Daryl’s body but remains bent down in front of him. “God, you've got his smell all over you. The stench of that damn ex-sheriff is all over you. Rick’s your Alpha, ain't he?" Daryl doesn't speak, just squeezes his eyes shut and averts his gaze. He knows that things have just gone from bad to worse.

"The little bitch went and got himself claimed by Mr. Goody Two Shoes over there, didn’t he? God you're intoxicating." The Governor bends down to lick at Daryl's mating mark and suddenly his body erupts in pain. "You've always smelled so good, Daryl, but the fact that you're in heat is going to make this experience so much more fun for me and my boys. Torturing you, making your body ache in ways you can't even begin to imagine, is gonna kill Rick inside, and that's exactly what I want.”

Daryl’s body tenses, starting to shake slightly. Rick couldn't find out about this, Daryl knew it would kill him. _They were so fucked._ “Change of plan boys,” the Governor says, standing up to his full height. The Governor glances around at his men, a crazed look in his eye as he cackles. “We’re gonna have ourselves some fun with this omega bitch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so what'd you think? That was kind of just a short introduction to gauge people's reactions. If the story is liked then I will continue it. Just a warning, this is going to get pretty dark. I don't know how detailed the torture scenes are going to be, but there's going to be plenty mention of them. However, I will clearly mark what's going to happen in the chapter with warnings in the note, that way nobody will be caught of guard. But, despite how dark it's going to get, I swear there's going to be a happy ending. 
> 
> So, let me know what you think.


	2. Carvings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've decided to continue this, hope you like it. 
> 
> Warnings: slight torture with a knife (I don't even know how to phrase that, there's nothing graphic in this chapter)

“Somethin’s wrong, they should have been back hours ago,” Rick says, pacing back and forth in front of the gate to their prison. Every few seconds he stops to survey their immediate surroundings, senses on high alert for any sign of Glenn and Daryl, only to resume his pacing after a few seconds. He wanted them back and he wanted them back now. Rick's entire body was on fire with the need to protect, the urge almost consuming him entirely, and he couldn't sit still to save his life.

Daryl and Glenn had left hours ago on a run that was only supposed to be a few hours long, they should have been back by now. Neither one of them had returned yet and worry was starting to eat away and Rick. If anything happened to them he'd never stop blaming himself. He was the leader, it was his job to make sure everyone was taken care of, and he had failed. It was getting darker by the second, the moon high overhead the only source of light they had, and the night was getting cold. Most of the prison had tried to convince him that he was overreacting, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible had happened. He knew this run was a bad idea.

Maggie’s standing next to him, every bit as anxious as Rick is. She’s not pacing, in fact she hasn't moved from the spot she's standing on in over an hour. Her body is tight and corded and her fingernails are digging into the palms of her hands so hard Rick would be surprised if they weren't bleeding. It’s clear to him that’s she’s fighting back her protective urge, her Alpha scent is resonating off of her in overpowering waves, and Rick knows exactly what she's feeling. Maggie’s an Alpha and Glenn’s her beta, their bond just as strong as the one that he and Daryl share, and not knowing what's going on is driving her absolutely mad.

“I seem to be the only one who agrees with you,” Maggie says, body vibrating with pent up agitation next to him.

“I can’t just sit here and wait,” Rick says finally, kicking the side of their gate in frustration. “I need to go. Daryl’s heat is coming fast and if it happens when he’s out there, he and Glenn are both in trouble. Daryl hasn't had a heat in years, it’s gonna hit him hard. No matter what he does it's going to drive him crazy and there's no way he’ll be able to adequately protect himself. I trust Glenn to take care of him, not that Daryl needs someone to take care of him, but if they’re overwhelmed they’re screwed.”

"I agree," Maggie says, turning to face Rick. "Daryl's as tough as they come, but not even he can think straight once his heat hits him full force."

Rick's about to reply when he hears footsteps and turns around, only to see Carl and Beth headed their way. “They’re still not back yet?” Carl asks, voice betraying just how worried he was starting to get. Rick can see the worry on his face, on both of their faces. If the other members of their group were starting to get worried then the situation had escalated from bad to worse.

“No," Rick says, fists clenched at his sides. He felt absolutely helpless and it was driving him crazy. "Maggie and I are going to go look for them."

Rick had barely finished talking before Beth is beside them. "You're going to need these," she says, handing the two of them battery operated flashlights before following Carl over to the gate

“We'll let you out and wait for you to get back,” Carl says. At Rick’s questioning look he continues, rolling his eyes. “You and Maggie aren't going to calm down until Daryl and Glenn are back and frankly, you stink of anxiety. The combination of you and Maggie’s overprotective-Alpha-scent is driving everyone inside crazy. If we can smell it from within the prison then you know it’s bad.”

Rick nods and starts to head off to the nearest car when Beth's voice cuts him off. "Rick," she says, and Rick turns around so he's facing her. "Daryl's going to be okay, Glenn too. You'll find them." Rick can't tell if she's trying to reassure him or herself, but either way it's a nice gesture.

"Of course they are," Rick says with a smile before him and Maggie head to the nearest car. Maggie slides into the driver’s seat and Rick gets into the passenger seat. Neither one of them should be driving but they don't have any other choice. Carl and Beth open the gate for them and Maggie speeds through, the two of them on their way to find their missing mates.

* * *

“Rise and shine Princess,” Daryl hears, right before a cold bucket of water is poured on him. He groans and blinks open his eyes, trying to see past the blurry images in front of him. He was in a small room, most likely a basement based on the look of the place. The walls, floor, and ceiling are made out of gray concrete and there’s no windows, not even a little tiny one. The room smells musty and wet and Daryl’s freezing, shivers wracking throughout his body. His skin is ice cold and he doesn't think he'll be warming up anytime soon.

That’s when Daryl notices he’s completely naked, save for the ratty pair of boxers he’s wearing. He’s sitting in a chair, ankles duct taped tightly to the wooden legs. His wrists are duct taped behind him in a way that wrenches at his shoulders painfully. He looks around, trying to locate Glenn. It takes him a second but he finally lays eyes on him. Glenn’s still out cold across the room from him, wrist handcuffed to a metal bar attached to the floor. Daryl can see the rise and fall of his chest so he knows he’s alive, thank God.

Daryl has no idea how the two of them got here. He remembers that he and Glenn had been on their way back to the prison when they were cut off by the Governor’s men. He remembers being overpowered and forced onto his knees. He remembers those people knocking Glenn out and the men threatening to kill him if he made any move to escape. But that’s the last thing he remembers. He has no idea where he is or how far away from the prison they are, he doesn't know what time or what day it is, and he has no idea how long it’s been since they've been captured. Daryl quickly figures it has to have been at least a few hours, meaning that Rick was probably just now realizing they were missing.

“Atta boy,” the Governor says with a crooked smile and Daryl has to fight back the urge to spit in his face. He was freezing, practically naked, and duck taped to a chair; Daryl wasn't really in the mood to deal with a cheerful psychopath. “It’s about time you wake up, you've been out for hours.” Daryl doesn't say anything, there's nothing for him to say, but he can’t help but glance over at Glenn. He hasn't seen the kid move since that time back at the car and he can’t help but worry about him. Glenn was family, he didn’t want to see him hurt.

“Oh him? He’ll be okay, for now at least. Betas are no fun, it’s you I’m interested in. Such a pretty little thing. I like an omega who’s got a little bite to him and you, Daryl Dixon, definitely have a little bite to you.”

The Governor takes a few steps towards Daryl, runs a hand down his check, and suddenly Daryl’s hit with the overwhelming stench of pure Alpha. His body reacts instantaneously to the touch and the smell, despite how much he hates it. It didn’t matter what he thought, his primal instincts were starting to take over. The situation was only ten times worse because he’s in heat. Daryl had forgotten how out of control he got when he was in heat, how out of control everyone got when they were in heat. His entire body is on fire with desperation, body aching with the need to be taken, and all he wants is some sort of reprieve.

Daryl’s body is telling him to submit and obey the Alpha in front of him while his mind is telling him to get as far away as possible. There’s a war waging inside of Daryl and he doesn't know what to do. His mind is telling him that this wasn't his mate, that he didn’t need to,  _didn’t want to_ , obey him. He was Rick’s and only Rick’s. But then his body breaks through his defenses and Daryl’s hit with a desperate feeling of pure need, his body screaming at him to submit in order to stop the pain he's experiencing.

A feeling of want jolts through him and Daryl is struggling to fight his instincts. His heat is in full swing now, boxers completely soaked with his slick. The scent of omega in heat is resonating throughout the entire room and Daryl is surprised the Governor is able to keep himself under control. Daryl is hit with a need so feral he almost passes out. His body is telling him he needs something, anything, and Daryl almost gives in. His body is starting to slip into that phase where he’ll do anything just to get some relief when he catches sight of Glenn. Glenn acts as his anchor and suddenly everything comes crashing back to him.

Daryl didn’t need  _anything,_ he tells his body. He needed  _Rick,_ his mate, and this man was not Rick. Daryl wasn't going to give in instincts, wasn't going to do that to Rick. Pain flares up in his claiming mark as the Governor gets closer to touching him and that helps ground Daryl, knocks his head clear out of the clouds. Suddenly Daryl realizes the Governor is doing this on purpose. He wants Daryl to react to him because he knows it’ll hurt Rick. That was his end game here, do as much damage to Daryl as he could and then watch as Rick’s torn apart by it, and it disgusts him. This man is trying to hurt Rick, is trying to damage his mate, and that ignites a fury in Daryl so strong it overwhelms everything else.

Nobody got to fuck with Rick like that. Daryl wasn't going to let the Governor win. He bites back a whimper, teeth clamped down so hard on his cheek he’s surprised he can’t taste blood, and schools his features into something resembling absolute calm. It was hard, God was it hard, but he was doing this for Rick. His hormones are still out of control and the ache deep within him is in full swing, but Daryl wasn't going to give in. He wasn't going to give the Governor the pleasure of seeing him break. He was stronger than that, had to be stronger than that.

The Governor watches Daryl’s reaction with an amused expression. “I’ll give it to ya, you’re a strong one. It takes a lot to fight off your instincts in the midst of a heat. No matter, instincts always win in the end, seeing you give in after you've fought so hard is going to be sweeter than everything.” The Governor presses his face against Daryl’s neck and inhales deeply, pulling back with a content sigh. “God you’re intoxicating. I haven’t smelt anything this sweet since my wife died. I get why Rick keeps you around. You’re strong, you smell nice, and I bet your ass is just as sweet.”

Daryl fights off the urge to scream. Every time the Governor gets anywhere near his claiming mark pain shoots through his body. Claiming marks were supposed to be personal, only touched by the Alpha who put them there. The second any other Alpha touched them, pain would shoot right through the omega, and the Governor delighted in making Daryl feel agony by touching his.

“Still can’t believe I got Rick’s bitch,” the Governor laughs and shakes his head. “You know I was just gonna kill you and Glenn, end it nice and quick. I wasn’t even gonna torture you. I was just gonna chain you to the car, shoot you through the chest, and let you turn. Eventually the group would have gone looking for you and the look on Rick’s face would have been priceless, you know how protective he is of his pack over there. But this,” the Governor gestures to Daryl’s nearly naked frame, “is so much better. Torturing his omega is gonna be sweet. I was hoping for one of his kids, Carl and Judith right? After all Michonne took my kid from me, kind of like an eye for an eye, you know?”

“You fuckin' touch any a them and I swear I’ll kill ya myself,” Daryl growls, lurching against his binds as he tries to get at the Governor’s throat. Nobody threatened his kids like that and got away with it. Daryl’s body was suddenly thrumming with the need to protect. The Governor wanted to torture him? Fine, he could take it. But he’d die before he let him lay a hand on Carl or Judith.

“Whoa there tiger,” the Governor says, laughing. “They ain't even yours and you’re acting like that?” He whistles and Daryl lets out a low growl. “Must be one of those false mothering cases. You know, when an omega convinces themselves another person’s pups are theirs? I've got to say, I never expected you to play the role of such a good bitch. Your brother told me stories about you, never mentioned you were omega. Daryl Dixon, playing the part of a good little bitch. First you bend over and get yourself claimed by Rick Grimes and now you've tricked yourself into believing those are your pups? What would your brother say about you, huh? I guess you’ll never know, I kind of killed him didn’t I?”

“Fuck you,” Daryl growls, spitting at the Governor. A smug look crosses Daryl's face when his spit hits him in the eye. Daryl may have let himself fall into a claim, he may have taken on the role of second parent to Rick’s kids, but he wasn't anyone’s bitch.

Anger flashes through the Governor’s eyes and he wipes at the spit with the bottom of his t-shirt. “That was cute the first time, but now I’m just annoyed. That’s the second time you spit at me, I see that as a sign of disrespect and I’m not going to be disrespected by an omega bitch. You think your something special but all you are is a worthless whore, and believe me when I say this, I’m gonna teach you your place. You don’t get to disrespect an Alpha like that and get away scot-free.”

The Governor walks over to a table that’s set up in the middle of the room, boots clicking on the concrete floor. Daryl’s too far away to see what’s on it but he’s fairly certain it ain't gonna be good. After a few seconds the Governor returns, hunting knife clutched tightly in his hand. “I really want to have a go at that pretty little ass of yours,” the Governor says, trailing the knife tip up his sternum.

Daryl shivers as the cold steel touches his bare skin and he fights the urge to flinch away. A gush of slick leaks out of him at the Governor’s revelation and Daryl’s disgusted with himself. No matter how much he hated the idea of the Governor touching him, his body would always react to the Alpha’s touch and that’s something Daryl doesn't think he will ever be able to handle.

“Oh don’t worry,” the Governor says, tracing his collarbone with the steel knife. “I’m saving that for later. We’ll have some real fun.” The knife runs across Daryl’s claim mark and he has to bite his lip to prevent himself from screaming. “I want you to beg for it, beg for my touch, before I take you. Soon enough you’ll be begging for any sort of reprieve, you can’t fight your instincts forever, Daryl. Face it, you’re just a knot slut, that’s all you’ll ever be.”

“Go ta hell,” Daryl snarls, glaring up at the Governor. If this bastard thought he was going to be easy to break, the man was in for a rude awakening.

“Honey, I’m already there.” The Governor slams his fist against Daryl’s face, head twisting to the side with the force of the impact.

Daryl laughs and spits out a mouthful of blood. “You hit like a girl.”

“Bitch, we’re just getting started,” the Governor says. He grabs a torn piece of fabric and ties it tightly around Daryl’s mouth, the rough fabric biting into the corners of his mouth. “Don’t want the others to hear your screams.”

Daryl knit his eyebrows together, confused as to why the Governor would say that. He couldn’t be referring to the men he had brought with him when he had kidnapped Daryl and Glenn. If so, he wouldn’t need to keep his screams quiet. There must be other people located nearby, wherever they were.

“Now,” the Governor says. “I know you’re a knot slut, and you know you’re a knot slut, but not everyone knows that. You can't tell if someone's a knot slut by just looking at them. But, hiding your true colors is never a good thing, Daryl.” The Governor has his knife in hand once again, tip tracing over the skin just under Daryl's collarbone on the opposite side of his claim mark. “I want to make it so that everyone knows just what you are.”

Daryl feels the tip of the knife dig deeply into his skin. He tries to keep quiet, not wanting to give off just how much pain he’s in, but he finds it impossible once the Governor starts carving into his skin. He tries, tries so hard to keep from screaming, but he can’t help it. The pain is becoming unbearable as letters begin forming on his skin and blood drips down his chest. He can’t see clearly what the Governor is carving, but he doesn't need to look to guess, he knows what he’s writing. Knot slut.

* * *

“Stop the car,” Rick says unnecessarily and Maggie slams on the breaks, their car coming to a screeching halt just inches away from the one in front of them. There’s a car stopped in the middle of the road and Rick recognizes it almost instantly as the car Glenn and Daryl had taken. He’s out of the car in a second, rushing over to where it sits by itself. From his position it looks to be completely abandoned and he’s never been so scared in his life.

Maggie follows him, calling out Glenn’s name as a way to get his attention. The two of them use their flashlights to go over the scene in front of them, something that would have been absolutely impossible without them. “Rick, where are they,” she says frantically, voice cracking when she doesn't see them right away. Rick doesn't answer, eyes trained on the ground next to the car. He bends down and picks up a crossbow,  _Daryl’s crossbow_ , that’s laying in the middle of the road. Next to it is an old pocket watch, and Rick recognizes it right away.

“Maggie,” Rick says, voice breaking as he stands up. Maggie’s not paying attention, too focused on looking for their missing people, so she doesn't hear him call for her the first time. “Maggie, look.” He holds up the pocket watch and Maggie reaches out for it, hands shaking so bad she nearly drops it. Her hand closes around the object so tightly he’s surprised it doesn't hurt.

“They’re gone, they’re gone, they’re gone,” Maggie chants over and over again, voice breaking the more times she says it. Rick wants to prove her wrong, show her that their mates weren't actually missing, but he knows that that's not possible. They were gone, taken, and Rick had no idea where to even begin looking.

Rick looks around the immediate area, hoping to find any sign of Daryl and Glenn. There’s not much to go by, no clues as to where they had been taken, and panic is starting to seize Rick’s mind. His heart is pounding and his ears are roaring so loud he can barely concentrate. His first instinct is to run, chase after the men who took two members of his pack, but he can’t let instinct take over right now. He and Maggie had to maintain a level head if they wanted their mates to make it out of this alive, they couldn't afford to fuck this up. But all Rick can think of is his people being overpowered, taken, and his Alpha instincts are flaring up. Pack, mate, protect, is repeated over and over again in his head like a mantra. Glenn is a member of his group and Daryl’s his mate, his biological instincts are going to flare up the second they’re put into danger.

The car was left relatively untouched in the middle of the road and Rick had found the crossbow and pocket watch abandoned not that far from the vehicle. It looks like it's been hours since they went missing and Rick's surprised that all their stuff is still there. There’s one scent that is overpowering everything else, so strong it makes his head swim: Alpha, more than one Alpha if the concentration is anything to go by. Underneath the overwhelming smell of Alpha he can smell something different, much sweeter, intoxicating.

Omega. Omega in heat.  _His omega in heat._  Daryl. His mate. He can smell both of them, Daryl more so than Glenn because he’s used to his scent more than he is Glenn's, but their scents are feint. There’s a good chance they had been taken hours ago, their scent already starting to fade away as the seconds tick by. He should have gone looking for them a lot sooner.

Suddenly the seriousness of the situation hits him and he nearly collapses, struggling to stay standing. Daryl was in heat and he had been kidnapped. His mate was experiencing his first heat in years and he had been kidnapped. All he can think about is Daryl being taken advantage of in his vulnerable state and Rick is panicking. The need to find Daryl, protect him, take care of him, overwhelmed everything and he had to fight to keep himself in place.

“Rick,” Maggie says, grabbing onto Rick's shoulders. Rick can’t tell if it’s to keep him upright or to keep her from running after the bastards who had taken their mates, either way he’s thankful she’s there. He doesn't think he would have been able to do it without her. “We need to think logically about this. Don’t go all Alpha on me now and I'll try not to go all Alpha on you. Daryl and Glenn need us to remain level headed, that's the only way we're going to find them. We need to get back to the prison.”

Rick’s about to say something in agreement when he notices something for the first time. There’s a message written in red on the side of the car. “Miss me, Rick?” Rick reads, confused for a second as to who would leave them such a personal message. Then it hits him and ice runs through his veins. There was only one person who would write something like that. It’s got to be the Governor, only he would leave a message like that.

“Is that blood?” Maggie says, wiping her finger through the red words. “Oh god.”

Rick squints at the message and comes to the same conclusion as Maggie, it's written in thick red blood. He can't tell whose blood it is, but that doesn't matter to him. He knows it's got to be from either Daryl or Glenn and that enrages Rick. He feels rage, cold blooded rage, course through him. The Governor had cornered his pack, kidnapped his mate, and written him a message in the blood of someone he cares about. “He’s a dead man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what'd you think? It's going to get much worse than this I'm afraid, but like I promised, there's going to be a happy ending.
> 
> Oh, and next chapter (I'm pretty sure next chapter) we'll see the place where Daryl and Glenn are being held told from the POV of a character that might be a little surprising, (maybe not if you really think about it, anyone who guesses correctly gets a virtual cookie) so that'll be interesting. I really like this character but I've never written anything from their POV so we shall see how it goes. 
> 
> Anyways, let me know what you thought.


	3. Hiding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy.

“You ever get the feeling something just ain't right about him?” Tara asks, watching out the window as Brian leaves with half of their group, all Alpha males. Supposedly he was going out on patrol but Tara wasn't too sure she bought his story. You didn't bring that many people on patrol with you. Lilly believed any story Brian told her, she was so fucking gullible sometimes Tara just wanted to slap some sense into her, but Tara definitely did not. They hadn't known each other for long, just over a month, and there was just something off about him.

Tara just didn't like him, hadn't liked him since the moment he had showed up in their apartment complex. Brian had convinced them to leave the apartment they had been holed up in since the start of the apocalypse, something that she wasn't too thrilled about if she was being honest. It’s not that she didn’t agree with him, they really should have left a lot earlier than they had. Tara just didn't want to leave with him. Call it cop's intuition, okay fine _cadet's intuition_ , but she didn't trust Brian as far as she could throw him which, considering the fact that he was much larger than she was, said a lot about how much she trusted him.

Sure he did have his moments, but 99.9% of the time Tara had to fight back the urge to strangle him. He was cocky, fake, and a right asshole most of the time. The second he had shown up Tara wanted him gone, but, of course, Lilly had refused. She was too big of a softy, something that was eventually going to get her killed. After their dad had died there was nothing left for them in their tiny little apartment. So they left, following the leadership of one Brian Heriot. Lilly, Brian, Meghan, and Tara had walked for a while, looking for anything that seemed promising.

After a few days of camping in the woods they came across a small group of survivors who had a fairly decent set up. The group, all twenty-five of them, was holed up in a fairly secluded cul-de-sac made up of ten houses. It wasn't perfect, but it was something. The houses were rather large, each with at least six bedrooms, and had plenty enough room for everyone in the group to have their own space. They had welcomed them with open arms, mainly because the unofficial leader of the group, Martinez, recognized Brian. Apparently they had run around together before Brian had run into them, which he refused to talk about. Go figure.

Lilly, Meghan, and Tara had been situated in a house that already housed a family made up of an Alpha, his beta wife, and their son. They were decent people, easy enough to get along with, and Tara actually enjoyed having them around. The house was one of the larger ones, meaning there was more than enough room for the six of them to live comfortably together. There were other families and couples smattered through the other houses.

All of the single Alphas, including Brian even though he was less than thrilled about it, were housed in the largest house at the head of the cul-de-sac. Martinez was all about making sure his people were taken care of, and keeping the unmated Alphas somewhat separate from the unmated omegas and betas was a measure put into place in order to protect them. Many people thought it was unnecessary, but Tara was more than glad it was put into place. She knew how easy it was for Alpha's to overpower omegas, it was best to keep them housed separate. If any of them started courting each other, well. That was a different story.

“About Brian?” Lilly says with a laugh, belittling her question. Lilly's tone suggests Tara is incompetent which only infuriates her. The two of them are sitting in their living room alone, sorting through all the supplies they had. They hadn't been there long and there was a group of people set to go on a run soon. The two of them had been told to make a list of everything they needed. Of course there was a very big possibility that they wouldn't be able to find anything on their list, but it was the though that counted. “There’s nothing wrong with Brian, you’re being ridiculous.”

“You barely know the guy,” Tara points out, making a valid point. “He’s sketchy, I don’t like him.”

“You don’t like Alphas at all,” Lilly laughs and Tara feels a rush of anger spread through her. The fact that she was dismissing Tara’s gut feeling without even considering how true it may be was incredible annoying. Then again, that was Lilly. Tara should have expected as much. “Clearly your opinion of him is being influenced by your history of hating Alphas. You have one bad experience and suddenly they’re all the scum of the earth.”

Tara closes her eyes, trying to fight back the sudden rush of memories that filters through her mind. The last thing she needs right now is to relive flashbacks of that experience, she has much more important stuff to deal with right now, like the fact that her sister was dating a mad man. “It wasn't just a bad experience, Lilly, don’t try and trivialize what happened to me, and I don’t hate all Alphas. I'm wary of people who send off bad vibes, and Brian definitely sends off bad vibes.”

“Tara, you can’t blame the guy for what happened to you all those years ago. His instincts took over, stuff like that happens” Lilly says, once again bringing repressed memories to the surface of Tara's consciousness. Tara clenches her fists tightly, trying to fight the inner instinct to attack. “Besides, it happened years ago, get over it.”

Tara took the time to calm herself down before she spoke again, the last thing she needed was to say the wrong thing and start a fight with her sister. Tara was just sick and tired of people excusing what had happened to her simply because it was “Alpha instinct.” Alpha instincts shouldn't justify bad decisions. It happened years ago, she should have been over it by now. But she wasn't, and that’s what really pissed her off. No matter how much time passed she couldn't stop the bad memories from resurfacing.

“You don’t just get over something like that, and besides this conversation has nothing to do with what happened all those years ago. We're talking about Brian here. You are so obsessed with finding the perfect mate that you are completely blocking out all the signs Brian’s been giving you that something isn't right. You can’t just,” Tara starts, only to be cut off by Lilly’s interjection.

“Maybe you should give Nate a chance, you know that cute kid with the nice ass?” Lilly asks, once again completely ignoring what Tara was trying to tell her. “I know he likes you, he was asking about you the other day, and he’s not that bad looking. He’s your age, has some cute dimples, and he smells fantastic.”

“I don’t want to give Nate a chance,” Tara says, voice frustrated. She was tired of having this argument with her sister. Tara may be an omega, but the last thing she wants is to submit to some Alpha punk. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Nate, he really was a nice kid and he did make good company, but he was a man, and she clearly batted for the other team. Not to mention she wasn’t into Alphas, never had been. She liked the sweet comfort of other omegas, which apparently made her a freak of nature, not the dominating touch of Alphas.

“Tara come on,” Lilly says, sorting through Meghan’s clothes so she could take inventory of what she was in need of. “We’re in the damn apocalypse, grow up. You can’t keep holding onto that silly fantasy of yours because nobody is going to share the same one. There’s limited choices in the world today, eventually you’re going to have to settle for someone, might I add that that someone will be a man, so you might as well just take Nate before someone else snatches him up.”

“I don’t want to settle, Lilly,” Tara says, hands clenched in a fit of rage at her side. This was not the conversation she wanted to be having. “I shouldn't have to settle. I don’t need an Alpha to take care of me. Nate’s a great guy and I’m sure he would make a fantastic mate, but he’s not my type and you know that.”

“Jesus Tara, this hatred you have for men has got to stop,” Lilly said, looking over at her sister. Tara knew that Lilly wasn't purposefully trying to make her angry, she genuinely wanted Tara to be happy, but she just didn’t get how she worked. Tara had already had countless arguments with herself about her “affliction” as some had called it. Omegas weren't supposed to fancy other omegas, but she couldn't change that any more than she could change the fact that she liked girls. _That_ was her biological nature, whether or not other people understood it or not. “That encounter happened years ago, way before the apocalypse hit, it shouldn't turn you off from men completely.”

“It’s not just that encounter, Lilly,” Tara says. “I’m not into guys because I’m not into guys, not because of a past experience. I wasn't even into guys then and you made me go on a date with him. ‘One date won’t kill you Tara, who knows you might even enjoy it.’ Spoiler alert, I didn’t fucking enjoy it. I don’t like men and I don’t like Alphas, that’s who I am and I can’t help it. If that means I never find a mate then so be it. I’d rather remain mateless if it means I don’t have to settle for someone I’ll never be comfortable with. You're not supposed to mate for the sake of mating.”

“You’re a pretty girl, Tara, and you’re still young,” Lilly says and Tara has to fight back the urge to sock her. Her tone is soft, placating, and Tara can't stand it. “You could easily find a mate if only you would stop being so damn picky."

Tara sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’m not being picky, Lil, _you know_ I’m not picky. I don’t want a mate for the sake of having a mate, I want a mate because they make me happy. What's so wrong with that?”

“Nick could make you happy,” Lilly says, looking over at Tara. “Maybe if you just gave him a shot, you might find you actually enjoy his company. You don’t know unless you try.”

”I tried that once,” Tara says, voice starting to get more and more hostile, “and look where it got me. Men are not for me, Alphas are not for me, that’s just how it is.”

“See,” Lilly says triumphantly, clapping her hands like she had solved the next big puzzle. “I knew you are the way you are because of what happened to you. If you don’t get over it, nothing will get better.”

“No, I've always been this way,” Tara says, trying to put as much emphasis on her statement as she could.  She knew it wouldn't be enough to convince Lilly, but at least she could say she tried. Her sister was way to damn stubborn to convince. “I’m done hiding who I am because people believe my actions are abnormal, I’m done with it all. I deserve to live in peace, not be seen as someone who is abnormal simply because of who they like. That's not right.”

“Tara,” Lilly sighs, and Tara can tell what she’s about to say is important, or at least Lilly believes it’s important. “I just want you to find someone who can make you happy, and I know Nate can make you happy. You deserve happiness.”

“The last time you said that to me,” Tara said, her voice as cold as ice. She was done with Lilly for now, couldn't stand to be around her any longer. “I ended up drugged, gang raped, and left on the side of the road to die. I went out with that fool because you said he was a good guy, because you said I would like it. Well guess what, I didn’t like it. What happened to me is on you.”

“Hey now, wait a minute,” Lilly interrupts, frowning. “That’s not entirely true, I-”

“Whatever, it doesn't even matter. I didn't even want this subject being brought up,” Tara says, sounding dejected. This conversation was bringing up topics she didn’t want to deal with right now, couldn't deal with right now. “This is about Brian. He’s fucking you over, Lilly. He’s just using you to get what he wants and there’s something entirely sketchy about him. You're so blinded by him because you think you need a man to take care of you, you don't even see the type of person he is. I don’t think you should trust him, and I definitely don’t think you should let him come around Meghan.”

“Cause you have so much experience, isn't that right?” Lilly’s words are harsh, clearly meant to injure, and Tara can’t help but flinch slightly at her tone. “I mean, you are the one who trusted a pig like Greg. Admit it, you’re just a freak of nature who can’t handle her own feelings or the fact that I’m finally finding where I belong and you’re attacking me for it. You’re jealous, you always have been, because I’m _normal_. I’m attracted to who science says I should be attracted to, to who biology says I should be attracted to, and you hate me for it. So you’re going to attack Brian, a guy who I actually really like and cares about Meghan, because you can’t handle the fact that I’m happier then I have been in years. You’re still the omega who cried rape and was pissed when you didn’t get the attention you wanted from it.”

Lilly regrets what she had sad almost instantly, Tara can tell by the look on her face, but it doesn't matter, the damage had already been done. Lilly opens her mouth, probably about to spit a slew of apologies, but Tara doesn't want to hear it. She's done, so fucking done. Tara waves her hand, dismissing Lilly, before she can open her mouth to speak. “If that’s what you really think, then you can go to hell. When Brian turns out to be exactly who I claimed he was, you can deal with it because I’m done."

Tara stands up and heads out the door, footsteps loud and angry. She's ashamed to admit there are tears starting to flow down her cheeks, but at least Lilly couldn't see her. “Tara wait, where are you going? I'm sorry, you know that. I didn’t mean-”

“Save it,” Tara cuts her off, whipping around to face her sister. “I’m going to collect water, don’t bother following me.” Tara turned back towards the front door, ignoring every single one of Lilly's protests, and slams it shut.

* * *

A few hours later Tara comes back from the river that's located nearby their camp, fresh water in hand. She had roamed around the woods for a long time before she actually made it to the river, too busy trying to sort through her emotions to focus on gathering water. She loved Lilly to death but the girl never thought before she opened her mouth and she definitely didn't understand Tara's situation.

Tara's mind is clogged up with so much useless junk she couldn't think straight. After a few hours she feels like she's been gone long enough and should probably make her way back to the camp. She on her way home, arms laden with a bucket of fresh water, when she hears them. She’s on the outskirt of the secluded cul-de-sac when she hears voices, voices that sound vaguely familiar. Immediately she ducks behind a tree, making sure she's completely concealed.

Brian and the group he took out on "patrol" earlier have returned but instead of entering the camp from the front they’re sneaking around back, something she finds a little odd. The only reason they'd be coming in through the back is because they don't want to be seen. Tara’s fairly certain they don’t know she’s there and she’d like to keep it that way, who knows what they would do if they found out she was watching them. Tara's in the perfect position, completely hidden from view and the wind is blowing in the opposite direction so they can’t smell her from where she is.

Lilly may be completely smitten with the eye patch wearing leader, but Tara isn't the least bit fooled. There was something seriously off about Brian, something she couldn't put her finger on, that made her wary of him. The group was outside the backdoor to the Alpha house, just standing there. Tara can't tell what the hell they're doing but whatever it is, it can't be good. She could distinctly make out Brian's tall frame and the other men. They were standing in a semi-circle, all looking down at the ground.

Suddenly the backdoor to the Alpha house opens and Martinez steps out, eyes widening when he sees what the group is standing around. “Are you insane?” Martinez snarls at Brian and Tara is slightly taken aback by his reaction. He was usually the most levelheaded out of all of the Alphas, he didn’t let his emotions get the better of him, so his reaction was off. “When the prison finds out they’re going to go ape shit. You told me you were done with them, now you pull this shit?”

The crowd shifts uncomfortably, creating a gap between their bodies large enough that Tara can finally see through. There were two men discarded on the floor, not moving. Tara can’t tell if they’re unconscious or dead, either way she has to cover her mouth to fight back a gasp. The two men were bound and gagged, hands tied behind their backs with zip-ties, and something tells Tara that they hadn't done anything to deserve to be put in this position. It's hard for her to see from her position but it looks like one of the men have blood caked in their hair. Suddenly, a gust of wind rushes towards her and an overwhelming scent hits her. Omega, omega in heat. They've got an omega in heat bound and gagged at their feet. Suddenly, Tara’s heart starts beating hard against her chest. There's only one reason why they would capture an omega in heat, and it's not good.

“They need to pay for what they've done,” Brian says, voice cold as steel. Tara has never seen him act so cold.  “Rick Grimes needs to pay for what he’s done.”

“What he’s done?” Martinez asks, voice spiking an octave higher. “They didn’t do shit to us, that was you, all you. They did nothing wrong, nothing at all. Those people are going to come in guns blazing when they figure this out. We've got innocent people here, innocent people who don't deserve to be in-between you and them, and you want ignite another blood feud?”

Brian doesn't address Martinez's question, but he does speak. “I might not be able to take the prison, but I can break their spirit. Look.” Brian bends down and points to something out of Tara's view, showing Martinez something. “I caught Rick’s bitch.”

“You kidnapped Rick’s omega? Do you have a fucking death wish, man? What the hell is wrong with you? I told you when you showed up here that I wasn't dicking around with this shit,” Martinez says, spit flying from his lips. “What exactly do you plan to accomplish by doing this?”

“I want to hit Rick where it hurts, torturing his bitch is going to be the sweetest form of revenge. Besides, these boys have needs they need to satisfy,” Brian says, gesturing towards the rest of the group, "might as well let them but it to good use."

Martinez pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a sigh. “Bring ‘em to the basement, it’s the only place I can think of putting them. The others can’t find out about this, it’s strictly between us. Is that understood?”

The men nod and Brian lets out a victorious laugh, clapping a hand on Martinez’s shoulder. Suddenly they've got a hold of the men and are dragging them inside by their ankles. Tara can’t tell which one of them is the omega and which one of them isn't, but before they get the door shut she clearly sees a distinct pattern on one of the guys’ jackets, angel wings. She could use that as confirmation.

Tara waits a few minutes after the door slams shut, making sure they’re really gone, before she comes out from her hiding place. She is going to help them, whoever they are. She doesn't know the story behind Brian and this man's, Rick's his name, feud, but she didn't care. Brian was an evil son of a bitch, threatening to torture an omega just to make a point made her sick to her stomach, and she wasn't going to let him get away with this.

She is fairly certain that what Brian had shown Martinez is a claim mark, and if this man was indeed claimed by Rick she was going to get him his omega back. She wants to help, but there is no way she could just go in there guns blazing without knowing the full story. Tara is going to do this the right way, make sure that both of those men got home to the people who loved them. She needs a plan, but first she needs a map.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Tara's got some issues. This chapter was actually kind of fun to write. Tara is one of my favorite newer characters and expanding on her story was something I enjoyed a lot. Congrats to those who guessed Tara, you win a virtual cookie :) I had actually originally intended to make this longer but I felt like that was the perfect place to end it.
> 
> I'm hoping I explained their camp/cul-de-sac/what ever the hell you want to call it in a way that was easy to understand. It's clearly different then the camp that Martinez had in the show, but they couldn't exactly torture Daryl in seclusion if they kept that setup.
> 
> *Remember the Governor told Lilly and them that his name was Brian*
> 
> Let me know what you thought.


	4. Risk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: slight torture (nothing too graphic)

The first thing Glenn notices when he wakes up is the pounding in his head. His head is hurting so bad he can hardly stand the thought of opening his eyes, it almost feels like he's got his own mariachi band playing in his brain, the sound so loud it hurts everything it touches. He blinks open his eyes, fighting the intense pain he feels, and silently thanks god that the room he's in is dark, he wasn't sure he could handle bright light right now. Glenn tries to stand up, only to be pulled back down before he can even get to his feet. That's when he realizes he’s handcuffed to a pipe, the metal cuff around his wrist so tight that Glenn can clearly see his raw skin underneath it.

The floor he's lying on is pure concrete, as is the wall beside him, and the room is freezing cold. It feels like he's in a meat locker and Glenn can't seem to stop shivering. He remembers the run he and Daryl went on and getting cornered by a group of men, but that's all he remembers. He has no idea where he is, wouldn't even be able to take a guess, but he figures he's in a basement of sorts. There's no windows, the ceilings are low, and the room smells of mildew and mothballs. He's aware of the pain in his head and his freezing skin, but other than that he seems to be relatively untouched. 

“‘bout damn time,” Glenn hears coming from somewhere next to him. He turns his head, trying to find the source of the voice. His vision is a little fuzzy and his memory can't supply a name to the sound, but he knows he recognizes it. That’s when he catches sight of Daryl and he can't help but widen his eyes. Daryl's almost completely naked, wearing nothing but a pair of dirty boxers, and he's tied to a chair. The sight reminds him of when he was captured by the Governor, tied to a chair similar to the way Daryl is now, and he can't help but think horrible thoughts of the Governor being behind all of this. If that was so they were screwed, the prison was screwed.

Glenn's eyes roam over Daryl, checking for any injuries, and Glenn realizes then that Daryl is not in good shape. His face is dirty and covered in dried blood, most of it seems to be residue from the deep gash on the side of his temple. His right eye is completely swollen shut, eyelids so black and puffy it looks like someone had just colored over his skin with black marker, and his left eye is starting to swell as well. The rest of him is even worse off, if that's even possibly, and Glenn can't help but realize Daryl's gotta be in a lot of pain.

The upper part of his chest is marred with cuts that resemble letters, Glenn thinks he can make out the words knot slut above his collarbone and the word whore carved into the base of his throat, dried blood from the letters trailing down the rest of his body. He can just barely see Daryl's claim mark, the skin around it red and inflamed, and it doesn't take a genius to realize whoever had them had been fucking with how sensitive it is to anyone but the person who put it there. The rest of Daryl's body is a mess, cuts and bruises littered his torso, arms, and thighs, and Glenn feels a rush of anger take over his sense. Some bastard had been fucking with Daryl, torturing him, and he had been knocked unconscious.

“What happened?” Glenn asks, maneuvering his body slightly so he was sitting up against the wall. His head was still aching, a steady pounding in his ears making it hard to concentrate, but he can't think of that right now. They've gotta come up with a plan to escape. 

“Governor,” Daryl mumbles, and Glenn can tell Daryl is at his wits end. He looks exhausted, body sagging against his chair like he's about to pass out, and Glenn wants to know how long it's been since the man has slept.  “Wants ta make Rick pay.”

Glenn curses under his breath once he realizes that his early suspicions had been right. They needed to get out of here before the Governor pushed Daryl to his breaking point or got tired of playing with them and decided to go after the prison instead. “How long have we been here?” Glenn asks.

“Don’ know,” Daryl says, words slurring together. His head is slumped against his shoulder and his eyes are closed. “A day maybe? Feels like weeks.”

"We've got to get out of here," Glenn says. He pulls hard on the cuff, trying to break the pipe it's connected to, but the metal cuff around his wrist only gets tighter.

"Don't," Daryl says, and Glenn's head snaps over towards him. "The more ya struggle, the tighter it'll get. Not worth it."

Glenn curses and studies the cuff around his wrist. After a minute or so he knows there's no way he's going to get it unlocked, it's too complicated to pick, and he can't break the pipe that juts out from the wall. They're basically stuck there like sitting ducks, unable to break free. Glenn’s about to say something, anything to break the silence they've fallen into, when the door swings open. Daryl livens up immediately, all traces of tiredness gone, and he scowls at the Governor when he steps into the room.

“Well, look who’s finally decided to join us," the Governor says, tone friendly but the look on his face anything but. “Me and Daryl have been having so much fun without you." Glenn watches as the Governor steps in front of Daryl, running his fingers down Daryl’s neck softly. Daryl doesn't even flinch, only grits his teeth and hardens his gaze. Glenn reckons that that is either a testament to just how strong Daryl is or how used to the Governor's touch he is by now, maybe a combination of both.

The Governor moves his hand from Daryl's neck to his head. He threads his thick fingers through Daryl's hair and pulls, tugging his head all the way back and exposes his neck. Glenn watches as the Governor licks a strip up Daryl’s neck, stopping at the spot just under his ear, and he suddenly feels disgusted. The only one who should be touching Daryl like that is Rick. “Not only do you smell good, you taste fantastic. I only wish I would have gotten the chance to take you when I had you the first time, I'm sure your brother would've enjoyed that.”

“Go to hell,” Daryl says, voice dripping with hostility.

Suddenly Glenn is struck by just how strong Daryl is. It's no secret that the man has been through hell, especially when considering how abusive his past is. Daryl had been through more shit than most of the prison combined, and everyone knew he was one tough son of a bitch. But it’s not 'til now, not 'til Glenn witnesses the Governor running his hands up and down Daryl’s body in an attempt to get some kind of reaction from him, that he realizes just how strong he is.

Daryl’s in heat, Glenn can smell him clear as day, and because of that there’s no doubt in his mind that every instinct within Daryl is aching to submit. But Daryl’s not going to give in, he’s not going to give the Governor the satisfaction of seeing him break, and Glenn has never admired him more than he does now.

The Governor sighs dejectedly, almost like his newest toy has just broke, and pulls away from Daryl. “Daryl, we've been at this for nearly two days now, when are you just going to give in?”

“Never,” Daryl spits out, tone so vehement even Glenn's flinching slightly. “I’m not some pansy ass you can break, you're not getting anything out of me.”

A grin spreads across the Governor’s face, one that would make the strongest men turn around and run, and he laughs. “Funny how you say ass, cause I reckon yours is gonna be sore pretty soon. See, I've got a bunch of men here, men who can’t stick it in any of the bitches here because Martinez is hell bent on keeping them safe. My boys have waited long enough to find some good ass, it'd be cruel of me to deny them now. They've got needs, needs that need to be satisfied, and I think a bitch like yourself is just the thing to satisfy them.”

Glenn’s heart sinks into the pit of his stomach and he tries pulling against his cuff, despite the fact that he knows it's useless. The Governor was going to whore Daryl out to his men, and he was going to do it right in front of him. Glenn glances at Daryl and he can see a hint of fear cross his features before it’s concealed once more with a look of intense determination.

“Leave him alone, you can have me, I'll take his place” Glenn says, voice cracking slightly. He’s never had sex with a man, never even thought about having sex with a man, but if it meant sparing Daryl of that humiliation, he'd do it. Daryl was an omega, an omega in heat with a mate that he loved more than anything, and what was about to happen to him had a lot more consequences than if it were to happen to Glenn.

The Governor turns his head, regarding Glenn with a look of incredulity, before he laughs. “And what are you gonna do, huh? My men don’t want something like you, they need something better, sweeter.” The Governor presses his face against Daryl’s neck, inhaling deeply, and Glenn watches a look of disgust cross Daryl’s face. “They need a bitch in heat, and right now Daryl is the only one who can provide that.”

Glenn’s about to argue, about to come up with a bunch of random excuses to get him away from Daryl, but Daryl shoots him a warning glance and he shuts up.

“Doesn't matter what you do to me, you’ll be dead soon enough,” Daryl says. Glenn’s known Daryl for a long time, has seen him at his lowest, and he knows Daryl. He can tell that underneath his mask, he’s terrified. The last thing Daryl wants is to have sex with these men. It had taken Daryl months before he could have sex with Rick, and Rick was his mate. This was going to tear him apart.

“Oh, is Rick going to swoop in a kill me? Save his damsel in distress?” The Governor says. Suddenly the man’s got a knife in his hand and he’s cutting a jagged line down Daryl’s flesh, from his eye to the corner of his mouth. Daryl doesn't make a sound, only grits his teeth. Glenn watches as blood starts dripping down Daryl’s cheek, following the subtle curve of his jaw, and the Governor licks it up. “Newsflash, he don’t even know where we are.”

“Wasn’ talkin’ ‘bout him,” Daryl says, voice as cold as ice. “Was talkin’ ‘bout me. I’m gonna ring your damn neck.”

The Governor laughs, sheathing his knife at his side. “That’s funny,” he says. The Governor moves so he’s in front of Daryl, somehow managing to straddle his lap. How that chair held the two of them Glenn would never know. “You’re a little tied down, aren’t you?” Glenn’s eyes are fixed on the Governor’s actions, gaze impossible to break. He’s running his hands down Daryl’s chest, touch getting ever closer to his barely covered crotch. Glenn wants to scream, wants to shout, wants to kick the Governor where it hurts, but he can't because he's fucking handcuffed to a metal pipe.

Daryl flinches as the Governor’s hands start to travel further and further down, and for the first time Glenn watches as Daryl's resolve starts to crack. “Don’ fuckin’ touch me,” he spits, shaky voice betraying just how scared he actually was.

The Governor snorts, and bends so their faces are mere centimeters apart. “By the end of this, you’ll be begging for my touch.” Suddenly the Governor is moving, pressing his lips against Daryl’s in a bruising form of dominance. Glenn watches as Daryl’s body tenses up and he tries to pull away, his bound limbs preventing him from moving very far. After a few seconds the Governor lets out a curse of pain, pulling away from Daryl completely.

“You fucking bitch,” he growls, wiping at his bloody lip. “You bit me.”

“I said don’ fuckin’ touch me,” Daryl growls, and Glenn can’t help but feel pride knowing Daryl wasn't going to take this lying down.

The Governor’s fist comes into contact with Daryl’s jaw and his head cracks backwards with the force of the impact. Glenn can tell he’s a little dazed by the punch, but he doesn't show it. “Ya still hit like a damn girl,” Daryl laughs, which only enrages the Governor further.

“There’s nothing worse than a bitch who don’t know their place,” the Governor says. He picks up a nearby board and slams it into Daryl’s stomach, making the man grunt in pain. “Luckily, I know just the thing to remind you. You can come in now.”

The door opens and three men come clambering in, and Glenn recognizes them from the group that had attacked him and Daryl on the road. “These three are gonna help me. It’s about time they get the chance to let off a little bit of steam.”

The Governor walks over to Glenn and Glenn kicks out at him, missing by a long shot due to how short his cuff chain is. “You’re going to play along,” he says to Daryl, pulling out a gun. He points it at Glenn's head and cocks the trigger, the metal snick reverberating through the room. “Or I shoot him. Is that understood? You fight them, Glenn dies. And then I pay a visit to that prison of yours where I will personally kill every one of that group, starting with Carl and Judith.”

“Ya touch them and I swear I’ll end you,” Daryl says, fighting against his bonds.

“So we have a deal then?” the Governor asks, and Daryl only glares at him. Glenn would have argued, would have told Daryl not to give in, but the Governor had threatened the prison. He would gladly die if it meant Daryl got the chance to escape, but he wasn't about to jeopardize all those lives at the prison. The Governor may have been talking to Daryl, but he got the feeling that if he tried to cause any trouble he'd do the same thing.

Daryl grits his teeth but stops his struggling, giving in. “Good,” the Governor says, gun still trained on Glenn. “Alright boys, go ahead.”

At the Governor’s words, the men head towards Daryl. They cut him out of his duct tape, Daryl not even fighting them, before they lead him over to a table in the middle of the room. It’s large and lower than usual, right about waist height, making the stubby legs of the table sturdier. The men push and prod at Daryl until he's clambering up on top of the table. He knows what's about to happen, hell Glenn knew what was about to happen, but with the threat of harm coming to their family they aren't going to try and stop it.

Daryl pulls himself up onto the table, body aching as he settles himself into place on his stomach. Glenn can tell he’s in pain, the Governor really had done a number on him, but he doesn't show it. Daryl is too strong for that. One of the men, Glenn thinks he recognizes him as the one who had held the gun to the back of his head, positions Daryl before he straps him in. Daryl's raised up on his knees, chest and face pressed against the cold steel, which leaves his ass on display.

Once Daryl's positioned correctly, the man locks him into it so he can't move. His wrists are secured first and then his knees, making it impossible for him to move. It takes a second for Glenn to recognize what the table is, but then it clicks in his head. It's a breeding table and Glenn can't help but feel shocked. They had been outlawed over twenty years ago, the courts finding them far too barbaric, and Glenn has never even seen one in person. How the hell the Governor got his hands on one Glenn will never know.

Once Daryl’s completely immobile the Governor holsters his gun. “See, that wasn't so bad was it?” he asks, taking steps towards Daryl. Daryl doesn't speak but Glenn can tell his eyes are squeezed shut. Daryl knew what was coming, you didn't have to be a genius to figure it out, and there's got to be a million feelings running through him. You can tell he's humiliated, after all he had just gotten locked into a breeding bench, but Glenn reckons the worst one has to be betrayal. Even though he's being forced into doing this, Daryl probably still feels like he's cheating on Rick. It didn't matter if he had no choice, he was still about to have sex with men that weren't his mate, his body's bound to get confused.

“We’re going to have so much fun,” the Governor sings. He grabs a pair of shears, metal sounding next to each other as he gives the tools a few practice snips, before he starts cutting off Daryl’s boxers. The Governor discards them next to the table. Almost immediately the smell of omega slick permeates throughout the air and Glenn has to cover his nose. The smell is overwhelming, Daryl’s in the throes of his heat and his body is preparing himself to be taken.

The Governor swipes a finger through Daryl’s slick and sticks his finger in his mouth. “Wow,” he says, grinning. “You taste just as wonderful as I thought you would.” The governor swipes his finger across Daryl’s hole once more and Glenn can physically see Daryl's muscles tighten, trying to fight back his urges. “Wanna taste?” he asks, holding up his finger.

“Fuck you,” Daryl says, teeth clenched together so tightly his words come out mumbled. Glenn has to admit, he’s a little impressed. It took a lot of strength to keep in control of your body, especially when something like that is happening to you. Glenn can sense what's about to happen so he turns his head, looking in the other direction. This was already going to be hard on Daryl, the last thing he needed was for Glenn to watch the entire thing happen.

“Oh Daryl,” the Governor says with a laugh. “You've got it all wrong. You’re the one who’s about to be fucked.” His eyes roam over Daryl’s body, taking in every part of him, and Glenn can’t help but think of a predator stalking his prey. “This is going to be so much fun.”

* * *

“We can’t risk it,” Bob says, and Rick has to physically resist the urge to strangle the man. Bob didn’t get it, didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. It wasn't Bob's mate who was in the clutches of an absolute psychopath who had already nearly destroyed Rick and his entire family. Rick didn’t want to hear about what they could and couldn't risk, he already had a pretty good idea of that himself.

All he wanted to hear were plans about sending out a search party. It’d been a day and a half since Daryl and Glenn had gone missing, and they still hadn't found them. He and Maggie had spent hours searching the woods around where they had been taken, but, with no clear idea of where the Governor's main camp was located, it was an impossible search. Every bone in Rick's body was aching knowing that his mate was out there alone with a man like the Governor and there was nothing that he could do about it.

“I don’t care,” Rick growls, voice coming out more hostile than he had meant it to. Logically, he knows Bob is just trying to remain realistic. But he doesn't care about logic right now, all he cares about is bringing his people home safe. “We need to send out a search party. Daryl and Glenn are with the Governor, you weren't around when we had our run in with him so maybe you don't understand how serious this is. The Governor is a dangerous man who will stop at nothing to enact revenge on me and the people here, you don't even want to know what this man is capable of doing. My mate is with a psychopath and I’m not going to sit here and wait for his dead body to get delivered because knowing the Governor like I do, that's exactly what he's going to do. Glenn and Daryl are family, we always bring back family.”

“We can’t risk the numbers,” Maggie says, chewing absentmindedly on her fingernail. Rick figures if it hadn't been her who said it, the only person who actually can understand what Rick is feeling right now, he probably would have screamed at her. She’s sitting on the other side of the table from him, staring at the map that's laid out on the table like it was a life line. Rick, Maggie, Bob, Carl, Tyreese, Hershel, Sasha, Carol, and Michonne are all sitting around the table, pouring over a map of the nearby territory. Everyone else was starting to prepare for war. They didn't know what the Governor was planning, they needed to be ready to fight for what was theirs.

The nine of them had been sitting at their meeting table for hours now, trying to narrow down the locations the Governor could choose to hole up. So far they hadn't come up with anything, there were just too many possibilities. They all had a pretty good handle on what was going on within a ten mile radius of them, but anything further than that was considered foreign territory. So far all they had done was argue, nobody had proposed anything, and Rick felt like he was on fire. His entire body was aching with the need to see his mate safe, he didn't have time to argue with logic and reason. “That’s why me and Rick will go, leave the rest of you back here so you can help prepare.”

“No,” Carl cuts in, and Rick’s head snaps up at his son. He was the last person he had expected to reject their proposal.

“What do you mean no? Glenn and Daryl are in the hands of the Governor, we can’t just sit her with our thumbs up our asses praying that he’s going to bring them back safely,” Rick says, hands clenching into fists. It took everything in him to remain seated, to fight the almost unbearable urge to run out of the prison to search for Daryl.

“Bob’s right, we can’t risk a search party. If the Governor attacks and half the prison is out lookin', we’re screwed. We don’t know anything about him or where he’s holed up, he’s got all the advantage right now. If he was able to overpower Daryl and Glenn, then you know he’s got to have men with him,” Carl says, and Rick can’t help but agree. Daryl and Glenn weren't exactly easy people to overpower. “We need the numbers here at the prison in case something happens.”

“That’s why me and Maggie are goin’,” Rick says, hands clenched tightly together. “I get where you’re coming from, I do. But I’m not going to sit here and wait for him to attack, I’m going to bring our people home.”

“No,” Carl says, and Rick figures if he didn’t love Carl so much he’d reach across the table and slap him. “We can’t risk that either. Maggie is a one of our best shots and a damn good strategist, and you’re our leader. You make the best calls, Dad, that’s why you need to stay here too. We need both of you here in case the Governor’s forces attack. What’s the point in getting Daryl and Glenn back if there’s nowhere to take them?”

“So what are you saying?” Maggie breaks in. “We just sit here and prepare for an attack while the Governor does who knows what to our people?”

“No,” Carl says and Rick’s really starting to get tired of that word. “Glenn and Daryl are family, we always go after our family. We can’t risk the numbers it’ll take to create a search party and you two are needed here in case anything goes south. That’s why I’m going.”

“No,” Rick says, and now he’s the one he wants to strangle. “You’re not going out there by yourself, it’s too dangerous.”

“I don’t care,” Carl says, voice hard, and Rick knows there’s almost no point in reasoning with him right now. “It’s all we can do. Someone has to start scouting for the Governor’s forces, and none of you can do it. You have to prepare for an attack, I can go start scouting.”

“You expect me to be okay with this?” Rick asks, voice betraying how he really felt. He’d just lost his mate, a member of his family, and now there was a threat to the prison, his home. He couldn't stand the thought of losing Carl as well.

“No,” Carl says. “But we don’t have any other choice. We don't know what he's planning. We can’t let the Governor take down the prison, but we can’t just sit here and let him torture Glenn and Daryl. This is the only option we have.”

“I’ll go with him,” Michonne speaks up, and Rick feels a ball of worry unravel inside him. Michonne was a good fighter, they’d need her if the Governor attacked, but she could also help Carl. She’d do what needs to be done to make sure Carl lived, and right now that was just as important to Rick as finding Daryl was. “We can’t go out for long, few hours tops, but it’s better than nothing.”

Carl almost looks like he’s about to argue, and Rick can almost see the argument in his head, but decides against it. Rick wants nothing more than to leave, take Maggie with him and look for Daryl and Glenn, but he can’t deny the logic of what Carl’s saying.

“I don’t like it,” Rick says. “But that’s all we can do. You two be careful, don't stay out too late, and if you find the Governor's camp, come straight home. Don't try and pull anything.” Rick knows he probably sounds like an overbearing parent right now but he can't help it. His home was in jeopardy, members of his family were missing, and he can't bear the thought of losing any more people.

Carl nods and Michonne meets Rick's eyes. An understanding passes between the two of them and Rick nods at her. "Okay," he says. "Let's prepare for war."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that happened.
> 
> Let me know what you thought.


	5. Maps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: there's no torture this chapter

When Tara returns from the woods, Lilly is nowhere to be seen and she has to admit she’s relieved. She can’t deal with her sister right now, can’t stand to hear the mumbled apologies she's bound to have that don’t mean shit to her. Lilly doesn't have a filter, never has. She speaks whatever’s on her mind without thinking, especially when she's angry, and she hardly ever means half of what she says. But that’s not the point.

It doesn't matter if what she had said was a spontaneous gaffe, what she said hurt Tara in ways that Lilly could never understand. Lilly had always been on her side, supporting her through the failed trial and the backlash she had received because of it, and to think that, even for a second, she’d thought of Tara as just an omega who cried rape killed her. Tara has way too much going on and she can’t deal with her feelings right now, not when she’s got people to save.

Tara can’t stop thinking about what she had just seen and what it means about the people she's with. She had always known there was something off with Brian, he was sketchy and there wasn't a bone in her body that trusted a word that came out of his mouth. But she hadn't expected that many people to go along with whatever twisted plan he had concocted, like they were nothing but soldiers following orders.

She gets where Martinez is coming from, at least somewhat. He’s trying to keep his camp safe and prevent war with the people at the prison, she can’t exactly blame him for his reaction. What she can’t excuse is the men who went along with Brian’s plan, knowing what it meant. Tara had no idea what he intended on doing to those hostages or what he had told the others to get them to go along with it, but they needed to be dealt with. If they were willing to do that for Brian, what else would they be willing to do?

She’s got so many thoughts in her head, all jumbled together into one giant headache, and she can’t keep them straight. She knows she needs to get to the prison, wherever the hell it is, and tell the people there everything she knows. She just doesn't know how she is going to go about it. What she wants more than anything is someone to talk to, someone she knows she can trust with this information, but she can’t bring herself to go to anyone. Lilly wouldn't believe her, would probably tell Brian what she said and ruin the entire thing before she gets the chance to even attempt to locate the hostages’ people.

Tara hasn't been here long enough to get a good sense of anyone. Tara could usually get a good sense of what a person was like from the moment she meets them, call it cadet instinct, but she doesn't believe she can trust that anymore. Tara knows she can't trust anyone with what she knows, no matter how trustworthy they seem, because it was just too risky. She's just gonna have to do this on her own and hope she makes the right choices.

So, while her brain tries to formulate itself a plan, she goes in search of Jessica, the beta whose family shared the house she lived in. She steps into the house, listening for any footsteps indicating that anyone was inside. She doesn't see Lilly anywhere, something she’s happy about, but she also doesn't see Jessica. Eventually, after calling out her name at least half a dozen time, Tara finds her in the downstairs bathroom, doing laundry in the tub. None of their utilities worked anymore, but filling the tab just enough so you can do laundry was better than having to go all the way to the river nearby to do it.

“Hey Jessica,” Tara says with a soft smile, stopping in the doorway “Need any help?”

“Tara, hey,” Jessica says, her voice as bright and cheery as it always was. Tara wishes she could bottle up Jessica’s optimism, it’d do wonders for her own psyche. Jessica stands up and wipes her wet hands on her jeans. “No I’m almost done anyway, you need anything?”

“Yeah, actually,” Tara says. “Since I’m new to the area I was hoping I could get my hands on a map, just want to get a handle on my surroundings. Not really knowing what’s around you can be a bit disorienting.”

“I feel you,” Jessica says with a gentle smile. “Not knowing where you are is tough. I remember when we first got here, I felt the same way. There’s a folded up map in the drawer beneath the coffee table in the living room, our location is circled in red.”

“Thanks,” Tara says with a wave of her hand and Jessica goes back to scrubbing at her laundry.

Tara walks to the living room and locates the indicated map fairly quickly. She kneels beside the table and spreads the map out, beginning to study it in detail. It was fairly simple to understand, nothing too complicated, and Tara quickly gets a feel of how everything is set up. The map was a close up of the surrounding areas of her camp site. In the center of the map Tara finds where they were, a random spot circled in red surrounded by woods. The river near their camp is also marked, and Tara knows it should be fairly easy to tell what direction she's going in because of it.

She studies the map for nearly five minutes before she catches sight of a tiny dot labeled West Georgia Correctional Facility just north of highway 34. It’s the only thing remotely resembling a prison and Tara hopes she’s got the location correct, otherwise she was screwed. The prison really isn't that far from her location, Tara figures she can easily make the trek in a few hours.

She’s about to head out when she notices just how dark it’s gotten. She knows it can’t be that late, but this time of the year gets dark quickly. She’s not very familiar with the woods around camp, trying to navigate through them when it was pitch black outside would be hell. Finally, after debating with herself for a few minutes, she decides she’s just going to have to wait ‘til morning.

She folds up the map and tucks it in her back pocket. It’s getting pretty late, darkness has descended upon their camp, and she knows Lilly’s going to be back soon, back from wherever the hell she had run off to. Not long after Tara had thought that, Lilly comes trudging in with Meghan hanging on to her hand. Meghan comes bounding over to her and plops down beside her. “Hey, Meg, where you been?"

“Mommy and Brian took me swimming today,” she says excitedly, and Tara feels dread spread through her. Clearly Lilly wasn’t listening to her warning, even though she knows for sure she’s right now. She has the sudden urge to smack Lilly, shake her and tell her everything she’s found out about what Brian’s been doing, but she doesn't, she can’t. Those men’s lives depended on her right now, she wasn't going to ruin that.

“That sounds like fun,” Tara says, wrapping an arm around Meghan’s shoulders. She presses a kiss against the top of her head, her wet hair tickling her nose. “I bet you had a blast.”

Meghan nods and goes into a complete retelling of everything they’d done today. Tara can’t help but smile, she loves the idea of Meghan getting to enjoy a day of swimming even when they lived in the world they lived in.

“Brian was really good with her,” Lilly says, her tone condescending, and Tara refuses to look at her sister. If only she knew her precious Brian had an omega in the cellar of the Alpha house right now, planning to do who knows what to him.

Thankfully she’s stopped from answering when Jacob, Jessica’s husband, and Kaleb, their son, come stomping into the house. Jessica steps into the room, drying her hands on a piece of cloth, and goes over to greet her husband and son.

“Brian’s throwing a barbecue of sorts over at the Alpha house,” Lilly says once everyone is in one room. “Everyone’s invited.”

“That sounds nice,” Jessica says. “That man is an amazing human being.”

Tara doesn't speak, can’t speak. How Brian seemed to have everyone wrapped around his finger she’d never understand. It seemed she was the only one who saw past his ‘nice guy front.’ “Yeah,” Lilly says, “he really is a great guy.”

Tara can feel Lilly’s eyes boring into her, but she refuses to acknowledge it. She’s not going to have her sister make her feel like shit for the way she feels about Brian, especially not after what she’s found out.

Everyone makes a move to head over to the Alpha house, but Tara remains seated. “You coming Tara?” Meghan asks quietly.

“No,” she says, fake smile expertly shifting on her face. “I’m not that hungry and I've got a headache, I’m just going to call it an early night and head to bed.”

“Make sure you take some of the Tylenol, we've got some in the kitchen,” Jessica says.

“Thanks, I’ll make sure to do that,” Tara says. She can tell Lilly's watching her, probably not believing her story, but Tara doesn't care. She's not going to pretend like everything is fine and dandy when it so obviously isn't. Lilly opens her mouth, about to say something, but decides against it. The five of them leave the house and soon enough she’s alone.

Tara seriously can’t believe Brian would have the guts to throw a barbecue when he’s got men tied up in his basement. “This is a mess,” Tara says with a sigh, running her hands down her face. She sits like that for a few minutes, trying to come up with a plan. She can’t focus right now, there’s just too many thoughts crammed into her head all battling for dominance.

“Screw it,” she says finally, pulling herself to her feet. She’d sleep on it and hopefully come up with a better plan in the morning. Tara checks to make sure the map is still in her back pocket before she heads up stairs.

She makes her way down the hallway and turns into her bedroom, closing the door firmly behind her. Suddenly she’s exhausted, all she wants is to slip into bed and sleep for a week. Tara kicks off her shoes and shucks off her pants, slipping underneath the covers. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

* * *

Tara wakes up the next day to a knock on her bedroom door. She doesn't know what time it is, it’s nearly impossible to tell time nowadays, but she knows it’s got to be early morning. The sun’s up and she can hear the soft sound of birds chirping outside her window.

Lilly’s voice breaks through the silence, calling out her name softly, and Tara pretends she’s still sleeping. She isn't ready to confront her sister yet, doesn't know if she will ever be ready. After a few seconds of Lilly tapping on the door, she steps into the room. Tara hears her soft footfalls make their way to the side of her bed before she can feel a presence sitting next to her.

“I’m sorry,” Lilly says, brushing Tara’s hair out of her face. Tara is still feigning sleep, she’d always been a deep sleeper so it isn't that hard to do. “I didn’t mean what I said,” Lilly says, pressing a kiss against Tara’s cheek. “You’re my sister and I love you.”

Tara figures Lilly probably can tell she’s faking, but she doesn't make a move to answer her. After a few seconds Lilly sighs and stands back up, retreating out of Tara’s bedroom. Tara waits a few seconds before she moves. Her cheeks are wet from the tears pouring down her face and she angrily brushes at them. She doessn't have time for this, she’s got people to find.

Once Tara’s sure no one would be able to tell she’s been crying, she gets out of bed and slips on a pair of jeans and her shoes on. Once again, she double checks to make sure the map is in her back pocket before she pulls her shirt down to cover it. Tara then makes her way downstairs. Nobody’s home, probably all out doing various things around the camp, and Tara feels relief spread through her.

She makes her way into the kitchen and grabs a water bottle and a granola bar. She scarfs down the granola bar and takes a few swigs from her water bottle, before heading out of the house. Tara briefly debates with herself over whether or not she should pack a bag, if something happens she needs to be prepared. Eventually she comes to the conclusion that bringing a bag with her would only slow her down and raise people’s suspicions, two things she can’t afford right now. If she’s gonna do this, she needs to make sure everything goes smoothly.

Soon enough Tara’s slipping from the safety of the cul-de-sac and into the wooded area surrounding their camp. She’s close to the Alpha house where Brian had taken those two hostages. Suddenly she gets the urge to go inside, an urge she can’t really explain. Tara makes her way carefully over to the door she’d seen Brian drag the two hostages through yesterday. It probably led to a cellar, or some kind of basement, but Tara can tell it doesn't lead directly into the house. She knows she can’t risk opening up the door, can’t even risk being this close to the door, but she just wants to see if she can hear anything.

Tara presses her ear against the door, listening carefully for any signs of life. She can briefly hear muffled voices, voices she can’t make out for the life of her, and muddled grunts of agony. She doesn't know what’s going on inside, probably doesn't want to know what’s going on inside, but she knows it can’t be good. She’s got to get to the prison as soon as possible.

Tara pulls away from the door, figuring she probably risked too much time already, and heads off into the woods with the map in hand. Tara doesn't have a plan, has no idea what she was going to do once she actually found the prison, but she knows she has to at least attempt to let them know what was going on. She can't afford to be a coward right now. She’d been training to be a police officer before the apocalypse hit, it was time she started acting like one.

* * *

“We should probably head back,” Michonne says, stopping in the middle of the path they were currently pursuing. It’s getting dark, the sound of crickets and owls can be heard in the distance, and they were already at least an hour's walk from the prison.

“We can’t stop now,” Carl says, stopping once he realizes Michonne was no longer next to him. “We've been searching for hours and haven’t found even a clue as to where they could be, we can’t give up now.”

“Carl, it’s getting dark. We can’t search in the dark, you know that. I promised your Dad we’d be gone only for a few hours, we've been gone all day,” Michonne says, trying to reason with the kid.

“Daryl and Glenn are out there by themselves, in the hands of the Governor,” Carl says, voice sounding more hostile than he actually meant it to be. “You know better than anyone how dangerous that is. We have no idea where they are, we have no idea what’s happening to them, and we have no idea how long they’re going to last. It’s been almost two days, I don’t want them alone for another second.”

“I get that,” Michonne says, and Carl knows she does. “Kid, I get that. But walking around aimlessly in the middle of the night isn't going to achieve anything. We need to get back to the prison, we can start looking again in the morning.”

Carl was quiet for a second, staring down at his shoes. He wouldn't be able to rest until he knew that Daryl and Glenn were safe. “I can’t leave them out there,” he says softly. “I’ve got to find them. My Dad can’t lose another mate, it’ll kill him.” His Mom and Dad hadn't been true mates, but that didn’t mean they loved each other any less. Everyone only had one true mate, and some people went their entire lives without finding theirs. Rick and Lori had fallen in love, gotten married, and started their own little family even though they knew they weren't true mates.

Losing Lori had nearly killed Rick. He’d gone crazy for a few days, mad with loss once she was gone. When Lori died and her and Rick's bond broke, Rick’s inner Alpha had recognized Daryl as his true mate. Daryl was the single reason why Rick had made it out of that crazy state he had been in.

“He’s not going to lose him,” Michonne says softly, and Carl clenches his fists. “We’ll find Daryl, we’ll find Glenn, we always bring our people home. But for now, we need to get back to the prison. Don’t deny the logic in that.”

Carl sighed and kicked at a rock. He was so frustrated. What he needed more than anything right now was to find his father’s mate. Losing Daryl would kill his dad, would drive him absolutely mad, and he didn’t want that to happen. Judith had already lost one parent she’d never remember, she didn’t need to lose another one. But he couldn't deny the fact that Michonne was right. They needed to get back to the prison as soon as possible.

“Okay,” Carl says finally, and the two of them start to make their way back towards the prison. They had been walking for nearly an hour when Carl head it, silent footsteps fumbling around in the brush beside him. Carl pulled out his gun and Michonne unsheathed her katana, ready to fight off enemies and walkers alike. After a few seconds a woman neither one of them has ever seen before stumbled out from the brush.

“Who are you?” Carl asks, gun drawn in front of him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the woman says, throwing her hands up in surrender. “I’m Tara, I come in peace.”

“Were you following us?” Michonne asks. Her katana is at her side, blade reflecting the fading light from above. Tara doesn't even flinch, and Carl has to admit he’s impressed with the lack of reaction.

“No,” Tara says, hands still held up in a sign of surrender. “Well, not originally. I heard you guys mention a prison and I knew I had to come talk to you.”

“Why?” Michonne asks, twirling her blade. “What do you know about the prison?”

“Not much, but I know it’s led by a man named Rick, at least the one I’m talking about is,” Tara says and Carl’s eyes narrow.

“How do you know that?” Carl asks, hand tightening around the handle of his gun.

“Yesterday, a man brought two bound men to my camp. They didn’t know I saw them, I was hiding behind a tree, but I overheard them talking about a prison and getting revenge on Rick,” Tara says, her words calm so as not to incite anger. “They've got an omega, he's got a leather vest with angel wings on it, and another guy, possibly a beta? I don’t know, his scent wasn't as prominent as the omega’s. What they've got planned is not good, I knew I had to warn you. Please tell me you know something about this, I've been walking for hours and if you don't know the people I'm talking about this is seriously going to suck.”

Carl’s shocked, absolutely shocked. To think that a member of the Governor’s group would just stumble upon them like this was a little hard to believe, the possibility of this being a trap was clearly evident. “This man, does he have an eye patch?” Carl asks.

“You mean Brian?” Tara asks. “Yeah, tall guy with an eye patch, really gives you the creeps.”

Michonne and Carl share a look. “I take it that means something to you,” Tara asks, but the two of them remain quiet.

“You’re coming with us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's read, left kudos, reviewed, and what not. I wasn't even sure I was going to continue this story, but your feedback convinced me. 
> 
> I'm really hoping the timeline of this thing isn't too hard to follow. As of now Day 1 has consisted of Daryl and Glenn getting kidnapped, the Governor carving into Daryl's skin, Maggie and Rick noticing they're gone, Tara watching the Governor bring them back to the camp and then looking over the map. Day 2 has consisted of Glenn waking up and Daryl being assaulted, the prison sending Michonne and Carl out to look for Daryl and Glenn, and Tara meeting up with them which is where we are now. Hopefully that clears up any confusion you may or may not have.
> 
> To be honest, I had no idea what the name of the prison was. It took me forever to even find the name I used, and I'm still not entirely sure that's actually the official name of it.
> 
> Anyways, let me know what you thought.


	6. Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: description of rape (in the beginning, if that makes you uncomfortable you can skip to the second section, which is roughly seven paragraphs in, you won't miss anything)

Daryl’s screaming before he even realizes it, nearly sobbing as the pain rips through him. More than anything he wants to take it in silence, but he just can’t. The pain is unbearable, not like anything Daryl has ever experienced before, and he can't hold back his screams. He’s taken pain, been in enough brawls to say he’s experienced it all, but this is different. Not only does every thrust feel like he’s being torn open from the inside out, but he’s humiliated on top of it. Daryl's well aware of Glenn’s presence, despite the fact that the beta is turned away from him, and the thought of being tied down and raped in front of him is more than Daryl can handle.

The pain is unbearable, absolute agony, and it's humiliating beyond belief to know that Glenn's sitting on the other side of the room from him. But the worst part is knowing that this is what his body has been craving since he'd been taken, what it wants more than anything right now. His heat is in full swing, the scent of the Alpha’s around him clouds his senses and makes Daryl’s head swim, and he can feel slick sliding down his thighs in response to it. Right now his body wants sex more than anything, it doesn't care how it gets it or if it’s from his mate or not, and it’ll do anything to get it. Inside Daryl’s screaming, begging for all this to stop, but his body doesn't seem to care what his mind thinks at the moment.

The first man pulls out and immediately there’s another one taking his place, brutally shoving into him. Daryl thought it might be better the second time, after he gets used to the feeling, but it is so much worse. The man splits him open, tearing at his insides, and Daryl has to fight the urge to vomit. He feels hands all over him, touching his ass, his thighs, his cock, and he fights to get away, only to be reminded of how helplessly he’s tied down.

The man behind him pulls is head back, exposing his neck, and sinks his teeth into his tender skin. The man continues to bite him, leaving angry teeth marks all over Daryl's neck and shoulders. He's fairly certain he can feel blood sliding out of one, and he figures it's probably going to leave a nasty scar. He’s never let any Alpha touch him like this, not even Rick, and the thought brings tears to his eyes.

The act continues as the man releases inside him and someone else takes his place. Daryl’s not sure who’s behind him, he's in too much pain to distinguish between the different men. His body is freezing, the steel table beneath him chilling him to the core, as the man pounds into him. His grip is tight, bruising his hips with the force of his grip, and Daryl just wants to get away from the unwanted touch. He can clearly hear grunts and disgusting insults, mostly claiming he's a worthless whore, start flying out of the man’s mouth as he painfully pushes into him over and over again. Soon enough the pain becomes too much, the noise he can hear and the pain he can feel starting to morph into something he can't fully decipher, and Daryl feels like he's going to physically explode.

"My turn," the Governor grunts behind him, and Daryl's squeezing his eyes shut tightly to block out the feel of his hands all over him. The Governor tears into him from behind, and Daryl lets out a scream of pure agony. The Governor laughs and grips his hair tightly, before he wrenches backwards and Daryl's back is bent so far he's surprised he hasn't broke in half. The Governor sinks his teeth over Daryl's claim mark, wrenching a scream so loud from Daryl he's surprised blood isn't gurgling out of his mouth. The feel of another Alphas mouth on his claim mark is unbearable, igniting Daryl's entire body in fiery pain, and Daryl doesn't know if he can take much more. 

"You take it like such a good little bitch," the Governor grunts as he runs his hands over Daryl's body, examining every inch of it, before releasing inside him. Daryl's never felt so used and disgusting in his life, his entire body is on fire with humiliation as a burning pain spreads through him.

Daryl hears the door open and the heavy sound of boots thudding can be heard as more men make their way into the basement. Daryl's sure they're going to use him to, more than once, and he bites back a whimper. He doesn't want this, doesn't want these men touching him like this, but there's absolutely nothing he can do to make it stop. 

There’s another man behind him now, pushing into him. Daryl doesn't remember there being this many in the room, figures he may have come back for seconds. The scent of blood hits him and Daryl realizes with a jolt it’s his, his body’s slick not enough to stem the injuries he’s bound to receive without prep. The blood seeping out of him makes their entrance slick, and Daryl realizes with a relief it’s not hurting as much anymore. Every thrust still brings him a rush of agony, but at least it wasn't the unbearable burn it had been in the beginning. Daryl clenches his eyes shut and bites his lip, stilling his painful screams. They wanted to break him, make him beg for mercy, and Daryl’s not going to give them that satisfaction.

He can take the pain, grit his teeth and bite his tongue to keep himself from crying out, if it means his family stays safe. He’d do anything to prevent harm falling on those at the prison. He’s already screamed himself hoarse, unable to hold back the pain he’s feeling, and Daryl figures if he’d open his mouth right now nothing would come out. He feels disgusting, used, and he wishes more than anything that he could just shed his skin like a butterfly.

His mind starts to wander, anything to try and block out what is happening to him. Naturally, Daryl’s mind shifts to Rick. Rick meant safety, home, he was his anchor. When shit got tough, all he had to do was think of Rick and suddenly he could see the way out. Maybe that made him a pussy, relying on images of his mate to keep him grounded, but Daryl doesn't care right now. He needs something to anchor himself to the real world, remind him of why he was putting up with this, and that something was always Rick. He’d get through this, he has to get through this. Rick can't survive the loss of another mate, can't survive losing him, and Daryl would be damned if he let his mate suffer on without him. Daryl isn't going to give up, isn't going to let these men break him. He’d die before he lets that happen.

* * *

When Daryl wakes up, the first thing he notices is that his entire body is on fire with pain. His head is pounding, his lower back is aching, and there's an intense pain shooting from his ass down his legs. He’s never been in so much pain, everything is alight with agony. He then notices he’s no longer on the table. Instead, he’s on the concrete floor, handcuffed to a pole on the other side of the room from Glenn. His head is pounding, he can hardly focus on anything right now as drum beats battle in his head. His muscles twinge as he shifts into a sitting position, trying to find a position that doesn't press against his aching body. The skin on his thighs cracks when he stretches his legs out in front of him. His thighs are covered in dried fluids: blood, spunk, slick, Daryl doesn't really care at the moment.

He notices Glenn staring at him. He's grateful to notice there's absolutely no pity in his eyes, doesn't think he can take looks of pity right now. “How long was I out?” he asks, deliberately not bringing up what had happened last night.

“Not sure, it’s been a while. You passed out after,” Glenn’s voice trails off and Daryl pretends not to notice, “well after they left. Time is hard to figure down here but I think it’s about mid-day, they came down to give us this,” Glenn passes Daryl a granola bar and a half drank bottle of water, “roughly five hours ago. I could briefly see the sun starting to rise when they opened the door.”

Daryl grunts, acknowledging Glenn’s words. He picks up the granola bar, turns it over in his hands multiple times, but doesn't bother to unwrap it. Daryl’s starving, his stomach wrecking havoc on himself without any food since they'd been taken, but he doesn't think he can bring himself to eat right now. “You eat?” Daryl asks, squinting over at Glenn.

“Yeah,” he says with a nod. “They brought down two granola bars, I ate the first one. You should really eat something, we’ll need your strength when we get out of this.”

Daryl scoffs, but unwraps the food anyway. He’s always been a slightly optimistic person, but right now their chances of escaping didn’t seem that good. “Right,” he says, taking a bite of the granola bar. His stomach churns as the food hits his bell, but he can’t help but realize Glenn’s right. He needs to eat.

“You got a plan?” Daryl asks once his granola bar is gone, taking a swig from the water bottle in hand.

“Sorta,” he says, and Daryl raises an eyebrow.

“Care to share?”

Glenn’s about to open up when they both hear the lock turning. The Governor and another man, Daryl still doesn't know his name, walk down the stairs and into the room.

“Ah,” the Governor says cheerfully, steel-toed boots thudding against the floor as he steps over to Daryl. “The slut’s finally awake, I know you were probably worn out after last night so I decided to just let you sleep. I’m not completely heartless after all.”

Daryl growls as the Governor approaches him, pulling himself back against the wall. The governor just laughs and bends down, gripping Daryl’s hair tightly. He bends down so his face is mere inches from Daryl's, his hot breath splaying across Daryl's cheeks. “Your ass is just as sweet as I thought it would be, probably the best ass I've had in a long time.”

Daryl resists the urge to spit, his body is already sore enough and he doesn't need to give the Governor another reason to touch him. “You can say you didn’t like it, but I know you do. Your ass opened up so great for us,” the Governor says, running a hand down Daryl’s cheek. “I knew you’d be fun.”

“What do we do with him now?” one of the guys standing behind the Governor says. “I mean, we can’t keep these guys down here forever, eventually we’ll have to do something with them.”

“Oh don’t worry,” the Governor says, looking over his shoulder. “I’ve got plans for that later. As of now, they’re going to stay put for a while. This ass is just too good to give up.”

“His heat’s all but over,” the other man says, confused look crossing his face. “Fucking him won’t be any fun.”

“No,” the Governor says, and Daryl decides he really doesn't like that look on his face. “Fucking him will be much more enjoyable like this. He's gagging for it, giving him what he needs is going to be a thrill. Isn't that right, bitch?”

Daryl waits until the Governor’s in the perfect position in front of him to make his move. He's had enough of his shit, Daryl Dixon didn't just sit there and take it. He lifts up his feet and kicks out at the Governor’s chest, making him tumble backwards with a loud thud. His body is aching afterwards, and he’s sure he’ll pay for what he did, but watching the Governor tumble backwards is payment enough. Daryl watches as he hits the concrete hard, and despite the fact that he know it'll do nothing but cause him pain, he can't help but smirk at him.

“You fucking bitch,” the Governor says loudly, slightly dazed, as he staggers to his feet. “You’ll pay for that.” The Governor’s boot connects with Daryl’s chin, knocking his head backwards against the wall with a loud crack. Daryl’s head swims with stars. “You think you know pain? Just wait until I’m done with you, you’re gonna fucking beg for death when I’m done.”

The Governor raises his boot once again, no doubt about to kick out at Daryl, but he’s interrupted by the door opening. “Tara’s missing,” someone that Daryl doesn't recognize says. “Yesterday morning a group went out on a run, Lilly thought she left with them but they just got back and she’s nowhere to be seen.”

“Dumb bitch,” the Governor sneers. “I’m surprised it’s taken this long for something to happen to her, she can’t do shit for herself. She probably got lost in the woods, good riddance is what I say. What do you want me do to about it? Martinez is in charge here, have him deal with it.” The Governor turns back towards Daryl, about to kick at him, but the man interrupts once again.

“You’re courting Lilly, you wanna keep her? Find her sister. She’ll be incredibly grateful, might even let you finally claim her.”

Daryl acts disinterested, but he’s listening intently to the entire conversation. He’d already suspected they had others here, this only confirmed what he thought. Daryl figures the Governor’s gone and found himself a makeshift Woodbury, a camp that’s probably completely unaware of what’s going on around them.

The Governor looks torn, not sure what he wants to do. After a few seconds he growls, bending down in front of Daryl once more. “Don’t worry bitch, I’ll be back soon.” He pulls away from Daryl and stomps up the stairs, his two goons following after him.

* * *

It’s dark by the time the three of them reach the prison. Two people Tara doesn't know, she’s really starting to hate the fact she’s definitely at a disadvantage when it comes to knowing everyone's names, open the gates when they arrive. She doesn't miss the looks they give her, figures it’s only right of them to regard her as such. After all, she’s a stranger in their eyes. They don't know what she's planning to do, it was always better to be overcautious than under cautious. 

“Who’s she?” a woman with shortly cropped gray hair asks.

“This is Tara,” the boy who she had run into in the woods, he still refused to tell him what his name is, says. The woman’s eyes don’t halt their suspicious gaze as she looks Tara up and down. At least she isn't driving a knife through her skull. “I need to find my Dad.”

So, this is Rick’s son, Tara thinks, interesting. “Pretty sure he’s in the common room, getting Judith settled down.”

The boy doesn't waste any time, just starts stomping towards the prison in front of them. The woman she was with, the one with the wicked looking sword, tightens her grip on Tara’s arm and follows after him. After the two of them had taken her weapons, the woman had grabbed a hold of her arm and hadn't let go of it their entire trip. Tara understands why they’re being so careful, after all she was from the enemy camp and they still didn’t know if they could trust her, but she seriously wishes she’d just let go of her arm already.

Tara’s led inside the prison and soon enough they’re coming into an opening. There’s metal tables all around, and on one of them sits a man holding a baby. He’s older than she is, with curly hair and a graying beard, and he's holding the baby in his arms like she's the most precious jewel in the world. This must be Rick.

“Dad,” the boy says, stepping into the opening.

“Damn it Carl,” he says, rushing over to them. “You were supposed to be back ages ago, you promised me you'd only be gone for a few hours.” Suddenly he catches sight of Tara and he instantly shifts into protective mode, Alpha pheromones permeating throughout the air almost as if he were marking his territory. “Who’s this?”

“Tara,” Carl, as Tara now knows he is called, says, “you’re never going to believe what she has to say.”

Rick doesn't speak, just shifts Judith slightly so she’s in a more comfortable position and regards Tara with closed off eyes. “I know where your omega is,” she blurts out, unable to stand Rick's intense gaze.

The reaction is immediate. Rick shifts effortlessly from the roll of overprotective-Alpha to worried-sick-mate. His eyes widen and he takes a few steps towards her, nearly vibrating with nervous energy. “What do you mean? Start talking.”

“Wait,” the girl holding Tara says, preventing her from saying anything further. “Maggie should be here, she needs to hear this as well.”

Rick looks as if he’s about to argue but decides against it. “You’re right, she does. We should also move this to a more private location. Michonne, you get Maggie and Hershel, I’m pretty sure they’re sorting through our medical supplies. Carl, get Carol and Sasha, they’re both outside. Tyreese and Bob are on watch so we’ll just have to fill them in later. I have no idea where Beth is, but with the way news travels in this prison I'm sure she'll figure it out soon enough. I'll meet you in the meeting room.”

Carl, Michonne and Rick all head off in different directions. Rick doesn't say anything, but Tara gets the feeling she’s supposed to follow after him. There’s a lot of twists and turns they take to get to the so-called meeting room and Tara’s head swims as she tries to memorize the path. Eventually she just gives up, there's no use in trying to remember something impossible. If they’re plan was to get her lost enough so they could kill her later, so be it. She’d have no chance in surviving against a prison full of enemies anyway, even if she knew the layout well enough to navigate it herself, so she might as well keep herself relaxed.

Eventually they reach their destination. Rick opens up a wooden door into a room containing nothing but a table large enough to seat at least fifteen people. He sits down in the nearest chair, Judith still cradled against his chest.

“Am I permitted to sit, or is that privilege only meant for the inner circle?” Tara asks, tone meant to be light and airy. Rick looks up at her, gaze unrecognizable, and she can’t tell if Rick’s about to punch her in the face or bust a smile.

When he doesn't speak Tara takes that as a yes and sits on the opposite side of the table. Judith’s fast asleep against Rick’s shoulder, hand curled up in his shirt, and Tara can’t help but think of just how adorable she is. “She yours?” Tara asks, hoping to God it’s not the wrong thing to say.

Apparently it’s not because Rick just smiles, the first time Tara’s seen him look happy since she met him. “Yeah,” he says, pressing a kiss against the top of Judith’s head. “She helps to keeps me calm, especially at a time like this.”

Tara doesn't say anything, not sure what she should say. Luckily she’s saved from having to reply. Carl returns shortly after, followed by two women she can only assume are Sasha and Carol. Shortly after Carl arrives, Michonne makes an entrance with two more people, assumingly Maggie and Hershel. Hershel’s got a peg leg, and Tara has to bite back a comment about pirates. The last thing she needed to do was say the wrong thing and set these people off before she even got the chance to relay what she knows.

“Alright,” Rick says, resting one hand on Judith’s back. “Now that we’re all here, will someone please tell me what the hell this woman is doing here and what she knows about Daryl and Glenn?”

Carl looks over at Tara. “You better start from the beginning.”

Tara sighs and folds her hands on the table. She’s not sure what the kid means by “the beginning” but she figures she better start from when she first met Brian. “I met Brian about a month or so ago,” she says. “Me, my sister, my niece, and my father were holed up in a tiny apartment. We met Brian, my father died, and he convinced us to leave. We were running low on food, running low on everything really, and we wouldn't have lasted much longer. So we took to the road, me, Brian, my sister, and my niece.”

Tara swallows down the lump in her throat and continues her story. “I’d always thought there was something off with Brian, he just gave me the creeps, and I didn’t really want to take off with him. But my sister was convinced he’s a good guy, still is convinced he’s a good guy, so we stuck with him. We walked for a while, I’m still not sure how long it was, before we came across a little cul-de-sac of houses. Brian just so happened to know their leader, Martinez, and he got us spots among the small little camp.”

There’s no sound coming from any of the people gathered around the table, but Tara figures from the look on their faces that name meant something to these people. “We got settled in quickly, the camp’s got it pretty good if I’m being honest. We've been there only about week, and at first it seemed as if it is a place we could really settle down, despite Brian adding a major creep factor to the whole experience. Yesterday though, me and my sister got in an argument, something stupid,” Tara says, voice trailing off for a few seconds. Someone coughs and Tara’s jolted back to the present.

“Right, so yesterday we got in an argument and I stormed off into the woods to gather water from the nearby stream. On my way back I heard voices coming from behind the Alpha house, the house where all the unmated Alphas stay, so naturally I went to go check it out. Nobody saw me, I made sure I staid upwind so they couldn't smell me and I was rooted behind a large tree. I couldn't see anything at first, they were all crowded in a half circle, but then Martinez came out. He was clearly surprised, believe me when I tell you he had no idea what Brian was planning, because he started ranting right away,” Tara says, wanting to make it abundantly clear that this was not Martinez’s plan to begin with.

“He talked about a prison, mentioning that he thought Brian was done with them,” Tara says, looking around at the people sitting with her. “He sounded shocked and pissed off, apparently you guys must be bad asses ‘cause he doesn't want anything to do with you.” At that a few people’s mouths twitch into smiles and Tara can’t help but reciprocate.

“That made everyone really uncomfortable so they started shifting and I was finally able to see what they were standing around,” Tara says, taking a deep breath. “There were two men, both of them bound and gagged. They were unconscious, but I’m pretty sure they were still alive. One was wearing a leather vest with angel wings etched into the back. I could tell that one of them is an omega because I could smell their heat, and I'm pretty sure the other one is a beta but I’m not positive.”

“He’s my beta,” Maggie pipes up, head bowed in concentration.

It was a surprise to her, finding out that both of the men the Governor had kidnapped were part of a mated pair. Brian really did have balls, Tara'd give that to him. “Oh right,” Tara says, not sure what to say. “Anyways, then Brian went on to say you needed to pay for what you have done, you meaning Rick Grimes specifically.” Rick grunts, seemingly not at all surprised that the Governor had singled him out.

“Martinez seemed to be even more pissed off, apparently he believes you weren't in the wrong, and Brian was just adamant about how Rick and everyone here needs to pay. He then went on to explain that he caught Rick’s, well he caught Rick’s omega,” Tara says, stumbling over her wording. She didn’t think it was a good idea to refer to the man as a bitch.

“Martinez didn’t like that, but the Governor was adamant about him seeing things his way. He went on to explain that he really wanted to make Rick suffer, and…” Tara says, not sure if she should go into detail about what else Brian had said.

“Tell me,” Rick says, looking right at Tara. He's not using his Alpha voice, but Tara's still intimidated to tell him everything because his gaze is strong. “Tell me everything, don’t leave anything out because you think you need to spare me. I need to know what’s happening to Daryl.”

“Well,” Tara says with a sigh, still not sure this was the best idea. “He said he was going to make you pay by torturing your omega.” She pauses for a second before she continues. “Martinez runs a tight ship, he has all the unmated Alphas gathered into one house and cracks down on anyone who tries to take advantage of unwilling omegas and betas. He cares about the people there, he’d do anything to protect them. Apparently Brian thinks that’s unfair and, well he claimed his men could use Daryl to get some relief.”

The second Tara says it, she knows she shouldn't have. Rick’s face goes pale, all the color draining from it, and he honestly looks like he’s going to pass out. The rest of the people around the table don’t look much better, they all look sick to their stomach, and for the first time Tara realizes just how much these men mean to them.

“Dad,” Carl says, taking Judith out of Rick’s hands. It’s probably a good thing to because within a second of Judith being removed from his arms, Rick is up and pacing, kicking the chair out from under him. He’s worked himself into a frenzy, pounding into the nearest wall, and Tara regrets ever opening her mouth. She knows he needs to know, but it’s gotta be hell knowing your mate was at the mercy of another man.

“Dad,” Carl tries again, stepping in front of Rick. He finally stops, clenching his fists tightly. “We’re going to get them back, they’re going to be fine.”

Rick sighs and takes Judith back into his arms, burying his face in her hair. After a few seconds Rick seems to calm down and he picks up his chair before taking his seat once again. “We were right to assume the Governor has them,” Rick says, eyes sliding closed.

“The governor?” Tara says, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “Who’s the Governor?”

“Brian,” Carl pipes up. “His real name isn't Brian, I think it’s Phillip or something like that, but we call him the Governor.”

Tara must look confused because he takes it upon himself to enlighten her. “He used to run a group, Woodbury. They referred to him as the Governor, Martinez was like his second in command. They kidnapped a few of our people, we got them back thankfully but he had already learned of our location. He attacked us, but we won and we haven’t seen him since.”

“Damn,” Tara says. She’s sure there’s a lot more to that story, but they don’t really have time to go into the details of everything. “I knew he was psychotic.” That seemed to bring a laugh out of some of the people around her.

“There’s one plus side to this,” one of the women Carl had brought back with him says, Tara’s not sure if it’s Sasha or Carol, she really hated not knowing all of their names. “If he’s planning on torturing our people to get back at us, he’s probably not thinking about attacking us.”

“She’s got a point,” Hershel says. “We should focus mostly on getting our people back, if we do it soon enough we don’t have to worry about an attack on the prison.”

It looks as if Maggie is about to open her mouth to add her two cents when a blonde headed girl barges into the room. “I heard you got news about Daryl and Glenn.”

Tara’s heart skips a beat when she enters and she suddenly has trouble speaking, trouble doing anything. She’s beautiful, absolutely drop dead gorgeous, and she automatically has the instinct to sidle up closer to her. Tara's never felt this pull with anyone, the type of pull that made her heart pound and her palms sweat, and she briefly wonders just what the fuck is wrong with her. The second an attractive girl walks in she's like putty in her hands, something that's never happened to her before, and she doesn't understand what's going on

“Oh,” the girl says, surprised to see Tara sitting there. Tara feels as if she’s died and gone to heaven, her voice is just that heavenly and she figures she could spend the rest of her life listening to it. “Who’s this?”

“I’m, um,” Tara stutters, and suddenly her face is blushing red hot. She can’t even manage to speak correctly around her.

“She’s Tara,” Rick says, making Tara blush even harder.

“Oh, hello Tara,” the girl says, coming to sit in the vacant chair next to her. “Hopefully they’re not giving you too much trouble.”

“No, not at all,” Tara says, not even sure if her words are making sense right now. “They've been very, um, accommodating.” Tara ducks her head, face heating up with embarrassment.

“Yes, no one’s threatened to kill her yet,” Maggie says, tone slightly snippy. “She’s the one who knows where Daryl and Glenn are.”

“You’re with the Governor?” Beth says, eyebrows knitting together in a sign of distrust, and Tara decides she’s gonna do anything to prove to this girl she could be trusted.

“No, well I was, but after I found out what he’s doing I came here immediately,” she says, slightly more coherent.

“We can argue semantics later,” Rick says, and Tara’s suddenly jolted back to the present. “Right now we've got to formulate a plan. Tara, tell us everything you know about the camp.”

“Oh, okay,” Tara says, sitting up so her back is straight. There’s a pad of paper in the middle of the table along with a pencil and she drags both of them over to her.

“It looks like this. The camp is shaped like a giant U, along the curve are a bunch of houses,” she says as she draws a U, houses covering the curve of the letter. “The Alpha house is here,” she circles the house that rests in the middle of the top curve, “and that’s where your people are. In the middle,” she scribbles the blank space within the U, “there’s a bunch of picnic tables and stuff like that.” Everyone’s watching her intently, and Tara realizes right now is not the time to leave anything out.

“The front has a makeshift gate,” Tara says as she draws a line along the bottom of the U, making it look more like a half circle now. “It’s not perfect, but it’s good enough to keep walkers out. It’s always guarded, so going through the front is going to be impossible. The back’s an entirely different story. There’s tiny gaps in between the houses,” she points to the gaps she left between the houses. “Now, to keep the walkers out they built wooden fences about as tall as an average person that connect one house to the other. Only one of them has a gate,” she circles one of the gaps towards the back, “It’s protected with wooden pikes, but it’s easy enough to get around if you know what you’re doing.” Nobody seems confused so she figures she must be doing a good job of explaining.

“But, we’re not even going to need that. Your people are here,” she says, pointing to the Alpha house. “There’s a backdoor that’s completely exposed to the woods surrounding the camp, that’s where they took you’re people. I’ve never been inside the door so I don’t know for sure but I’m fairly certain it leads directly to a basement typed room that’s not connected to the house, meaning there’s only one entrance."

“This is… perfect,” Rick says, eyes raking over Tara’s crude drawing. “We can get our people quickly, then turn around and get rid of the Governor. He’s got to die. This all happened because I refused to outright kill him, I’m not making that mistake again.”

“I’m coming with you,” Tara says. She can tell Rick’s about to protest so she quickly continues. She doesn't blame him, he doesn't know if he can trust her entirely. These people don't know her intentions, don't know if this is just a clever ruse to get them all over at the Governor's camp, don't know if she’ll rat him out to the Governor the second they get within shouting distance. But she’s not budging on this, she needs to go with them.

“If you want to tie my hands up and gag me, you can,” Tara says, completely serious. “I don’t care, do what you think you need to do to prevent me from ratting you out. Not that I will, I want the Governor dead just as much as you do. Any man who takes advantage of people when they’re down deserves to die.” If she ever came into contact with the men who had raped her, she’d kill them without hesitation. “But I’m telling you, I can get you in and out with the least amount of causalities. I _have_  been inside the Alpha house a few times. There’s innocent people there, good people, and you can’t just go in guns blazing. You may have an understanding of the layout, but I know that place inside and out. I can help you.”

“She’s got a point,” Hershel says, and Rick’s head snaps over to the older man. “She knows that place better than anyone, we can’t afford not to trust her right now.”

Tara can tell Rick doesn't like it. His hands are clenched tightly and his body is tense. It’s clear to see he’s distressed over this situation, but who wouldn't be? After a few seconds of indecision, Rick sighs and looks up at her. “Are they going to notice you’re gone?” he says, and Tara figures that’s as much of a confirmation she’s going to get.

“They’ll notice,” Tara says honestly. “But they won’t think I skipped out on them. I made it look like I fell into the river, they’ll either think I was swept down river or that I drowned.” It had been a last minute decision before she left to make it look like she’d fallen into the river, something that could be used to explain why she'd disappeared without them snooping. The last thing she needed was for the camp to go stomping through the woods looking for her.

“Alright, then let’s come up with a plan,” Rick says.

“We’ll have to wait ‘til tomorrow to do anything,” Michonne says, and Tara watches as Maggie and Rick’s heads snap towards her. “It’s already late, the Governor’s camp is hours away. We’ll get lost trying to find our way through those woods. I say we enact our plan tomorrow.”

“It’s smart,” Carol or Sasha says, Tara really wishes they would just say their damn name so she could figure out which one is which. “Can’t argue the sense in her plan.”

Rick growls, and Tara’s pretty sure he’d much rather comb the woods right now by himself then wait another day. “Okay fine, but no later than tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That first part was literally the hardest thing I've ever written, it took me over an hour just to write that part I had so much trouble with it.
> 
> Update on the timeline, in case anyone is confused. The opening where Daryl is raped is Day 2, the next part where Daryl wakes up and the Governor finds out Tara is missing is Day 3, and then the ending where Tara finally gets to the prison is Day 2. It skipped around a little so I hope it wasn't too confusing.
> 
> This chapter turned out a lot longer than I had intended, but I couldn't find a place to stop so I just kept going with it. This should be wrapping up in a few chapters, but I'm thinking about doing a sequel so we'll see where that goes.
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed.


	7. Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Nothing graphic, but somebody does get stabbed.

“Tara was a good kid, brave, smart, she had a lot of fire in her, a lot of passion. She really cared about people, cared a whole hell of a lot, and ultimately that was her downfall. She went to the rive to help provide for the camp, slipped and lost her life. I didn’t know her for very long, you people even knew her less, but I know she was a good person. She didn’t deserve to die, but at least she died doing something heroic.”

Lilly hardly hears Brian as he rants on about Tara like he actually knew her. He's playing the whole thing up, acting like her sister died in the midst of a huge heroic battle, and she doesn't want to hear it right now. The fact that her sister died trying to provide for the camp isn't making anything better, isn't making the pain hurt any less. It doesn't matter how she died, it's the fact that she's dead and there's nothing Lilly can do about it. She wants her sister, not some dumb ass story Brian's concocted.

Lilly's sitting at a picnic table in the middle of their camp, Meghan settled on her lap. She hasn't left her side since they heard about Tara’s disappearance. Now everyone claims she’s dead, after only a day and a half of searching, and Lilly doesn't know what to believe. She sees the logic behind the reason they think she's dead, but she's having a hard time accepting it. After all there's no hardcore proof she's dead, just a shit ton of speculation, and Lilly's not sure she's ready to just accept whatever story the camp comes up with. 

There's people surrounding her, the whole camp wanted to pay their respects to Tara's memory, and there's a heaping plate of food sitting in front of her. Lilly can't concentrate on that right now. She can't think of eating or socializing when her sister's gone and her daughter's clinging to her for dear life, it doesn't work like that.

How can someone die, just like that? Be here one day and gone the next. Lilly knows that’s the life they lead now, that’s the life they’re destined to have in this world, but that stuff doesn't happen to her. It happens to other people, not the people she cares about. Her dad was sick, that’s why he died. Tara was healthy, she shouldn't have died. She should still be alive.

They were having a memorial for her sister, a vigil, whatever the hell you call it these days. Funerals seem stupid, after all everyone is surrounded by the dead 24/7. It wouldst make anything better, it wouldn't make the pain stop, it wouldn't help her gain closure. Her sister's gone, and no amount of remembrance is going to change that. Funerals are stupid. Besides there was no body, nothing left of her to bury, so a memorial would have to do. Whether or not she was actually dead.

Brian and a small search party had spent most of yesterday and all of today looking for her. They found her tracks, saw where she slipped and fell into the river. They followed the river for hours until they came across a mutilated corpse. There was no way of knowing if it was Tara or not, but, after hours of searching, Brian called off the search. Claimed she had to be dead, that the body they had found had to have been her. They burnt it, not that there was much to burn, and called it good. It didn’t matter what Lilly thought, didn’t matter if she believes it was her sister's corpse or not. Brian had made the decision to stop looking and that was that.

“It’s a tragedy, but it happened. Nothing is going to change that. She’ll live on in the memory of her sister, in the memory of her niece, in the memories of all those who cared for her. Lilly,” Brian says, and Lilly looks slowly up from her plate of food. All she can think of was the last thing she had said to her, the fight they had had, and she hates herself for that. “Do you want to say something?”

Lilly shakes her head and stands up. Meghan clings to her neck, refusing to let go of her, and Lilly shifts her into a more comfortable position. She's too big and too heavy to be carried around like this, but Lilly’s not gonna set her down. Meghan’s taking the news of Tara’s death hard, which really isn't surprising, and Lilly would do anything to change the circumstances.

“No,” Lilly says, heading towards her house. Tara knows how she feels about her, at least she seriously hopes she does, and that’s enough for her. Giving a long winded speech isn't going to make her point any more obvious. She’s not going to tell a group of people she hardly knows how much she loves her sister, there’s no point in it.

“Where are you going?” Brian asks. “The ceremony has only just started, you haven’t eaten anything.”

“I’m tired, we’re going to turn in for the night,” Lilly says. She can feel the eyes of the others on her, watching her every move, but Lilly’s not in the mood to deal with anyone.

“Want some company?” Brian asks, taking a few steps towards her.

Lilly shakes her head, turning so she can see Brian. He looks taken aback by Lilly's refusal, but right now she really doesn't care. She needs to be alone with her daughter so they can grieve, Brian's just going to have to accept that. “No. I want to be alone.”

* * *

Daryl’s drifting in and out of consciousness when he hears the door open. His eyes are closed, but he hears the familiar thud of the Governor’s boots on the steps as he makes his entrance. He hasn't made an appearance since he had disappeared yesterday, at least Daryl thinks it’s yesterday, and right now he wishes he’d just walk back up the stairs and leave them the hell alone. There’s not a part of his body that doesn't hurt, that's no on fire with agony, and right now he just wants to be left alone.

Daryl hears the footsteps stop in front of him and he opens his eyes, squinting up at the man towering over him. The Governor’s alone, none of his groupies are in sight, but he looks more pissed off than Daryl’s seen him the entire time him and Glenn have been there.

“Well if it isn't my favorite whore,” he says, voice cheerful despite the look on his face.

Daryl doesn't have the energy to speak, doesn't have the energy to do much of anything. He swallows, dry throat cracking with the action, and leans his head back against the wall behind him. His entire body hurts, he’s light headed from blood loss and lack of food, and he’s so fucking done with everything that’s happened so far. Maybe it makes him a pussy, but right now all he wants is to go back to the prison and lay down with Rick, the only person who can make his pain stop. It’s taking every ounce of his willpower to keep himself conscious and Daryl doesn't know if he’s going to last much longer.

“Huh, looks like you've lost your fight,” the Governor says, bending down in front of Daryl. There’s a smile on his face and Daryl’s sick and tired of seeing it. “You finally willing to accept who you are?”

Daryl laughs, the action turning into a coughing fit that rattles Daryl's body, and shakes his head. “Never.” He may be on the last of his energy, his body may feel like he’s been run over by a truck, but he ain't giving the Governor the satisfaction of seeing him break.

The Governor scoffs, smile widening to show his teeth. His breath stinks of alcohol, a scent that makes Daryl’s head spin with dizziness. “We’ll see about that,” he says. His hands grab at Daryl’s shoulder, finger digging painfully into his claim mark. His body instantly ignites in pain, the feeling of pure agony spreads throughout him, and Daryl's body shudders.

He wants Rick's touch right now more than anything but he's got to accept the fact that that's probably never going to happen. Daryl doesn't have the energy to scream, his voice is too raw to make much of a sound anyways, but his mouth falls open and his eyes roll back in his head. After a few second Daryl grits his teeth and clenches his fists tightly together, preparing his body for the pain that’s bound to be inflicted.

“It’d be much easier if you just gave in,” the Governor says, withdrawing his hand. “Give in Daryl, you know that’s what you want.”

Daryl shakes his head. That’s not what he wants at all. He wants Rick, he wants Glenn to be okay, he wants the prison to remain untouched by outside forces, he doesn't want whatever the hell the Governor is offering him.

“You find the girl?” Glenn asks, voice raw and scratchy. He’s barely talked the entire time they've been down here and the lack of use is making his voice hoarse. “The one that went missing, you find her?”

“She’s dead,” the Governor says, pulling away from Daryl. Daryl’s head swims, his vision goes fuzzy, and he’s finding it hard to concentrate. “Fell into the river, probably drowned and was washed away. Found a body that’s probably hers. It ain't much, that river, but it can be dangerous.”

“Shame,” Glenn says from across the room, pulling himself up so he’s in a sitting position. Glenn’s eyes roam over Daryl, probably checking to make sure he’s okay, before he starts speaking again “Guess that means you ain't getting none from that bitch of yours. Can’t even keep her sister safe, pretty lousy Alpha if I do say so myself.”

Daryl knows what he’s doing the second he starts talking. Glenn’s never called anyone a bitch before, especially not someone he’s never met. He wouldn't do that, not unless he's trying to get a rise out of someone, and he definitely wouldn't insult the Governor like that unless he plans to cause problems. Daryl’s sure he looks like hell, like he’s barely holding it together, and he’s fairly certain Glenn thinks that getting the Governor’s attention trained on him will get him to let off of Daryl, even if it’s just a little. Daryl wishes Glenn would just shut his damn mouth, he doesn't need the kid to try and make his life easier. The last thing he wants right now is for Glenn to get hurt.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” the Governor says, taking a few steps towards Glenn.

“I know you clearly can’t keep a woman,” Glenn says, and Daryl can physically see the Governor tense up in front of him. He wants to scream at Glenn to shut the hell up before he gets hurt, but his voice isn't working. “You lost your wife, you lost Andrea, eventually you’re gonna lose whoever it is you’re fucking because you don’t know how to handle other people. You’re a shitty Alpha, can’t even get a girl to claim properly.”

The Governor laughs, a deep hearty laugh. Daryl can only see his back so he doesn't know what he’s thinking, but he’s sure that whatever it is it ain't good. “You have a big mouth,” the Governor says, stepping towards Glenn. “I don’t like that.” His voice changes from playful to deadly in just a few seconds and Daryl knows he's right to assume that shit's about to hit the fan.

“He’s just being a dumb kid,” Daryl chokes out. “Leave him alone, he doesn't know what he's saying.”

“Nah,” the Governor says. “I don’t take orders from bitches.” He watches as the Governor grabs a hold of Glenn. His fists start flying at him, dull thuds sounding throughout the room as his fists make contact with Glenn's body. Daryl wants to scream for him to stop but he can’t get his voice to work and he knows it won’t make a difference anyways.

After a few minutes of punching Glenn, the Governor fumbles with something at his side and Daryl can hear the unmistakable sound of a knife being unsheathed. He watches as the Governor grips the knife tightly, trails it along the sharp jut of his collar bone, before he plunges it into Glenn’s shoulder, enticing an agonizing scream out of him.

“What the fuck man?” Daryl growls, suddenly alert. He pulls against his handcuff, but it’s not doing anything but making his wrist hurt.

“Shouldn't have been so damn mouthy,” the Governor says, standing up. He exhales and wipes the sweat off his brow.

“You two are dead in a few days, then I’m gonna pay a visit to that prison, burn it to the fucking ground. I’ll start with the kids, but don’t worry I’ll make that quick, they won’t even suffer. You think Carl and Judith will scream for you?” he asks, looking over at Daryl. “Judith’s just a baby, I don’t think she’ll do much. But Carl, he’s old enough. You think he’ll beg for mercy?”

“You son of a bitch,” Daryl screams, throat aching as the words escape him. “I’m going to kill you, you lay a hand on either one of them and I swear to god you’ll wish you were dead.”

The Governor scoffs, throws his head back in laughter. “You’re a little busy right now, don’t you think? I’m gonna kill you, then pay a visit to that prison of yours. I’ll kill every last one of them, the young and the old, but I’ll save Maggie and Rick for last.”

He lets that sink in before he continues. “I’ll keep them alive long enough for them to see the fall of the prison, then I’ll drop your dead bodies right in front of them. I’ll watch as they go mad with loss, watch as they fall to the ground in agony. Only then will I kill them, after they lose everything. These men are with me a hundred percent. Martinez might not be, but I assume he’ll be dead soon enough. He’s kept these men’s Alpha instincts subdued for so long, they’re itching for some bloodshed. It’ll be a piece of cake, they won't even expect it.”

The Governor stands up, leaving the knife still embedded in Glenn’s shoulder. He doesn't say a word, just turns around and heads back up the stairs. The sound of the door slamming closed reverberates through the room. “Fuck,” Daryl yells, slamming his fist into the wall beside him. They're so fucked.

* * *

“The house is just through those trees,” Tara says, pointing towards the east. Rick can just barely make out the outline of a large house through the darkness. It’s late, about three in the morning, and their surroundings are nearly pitch black. “The door is right there, I’ve never been through it so I don’t know what you’re going to see. Martinez and Cynthia are scheduled for watch tonight, but they only watch the front gate. It’s late, by now the Alphas involved should all be inside. It'll be easy, get 'em while they're sleeping. They won't even know what hit them.”

Rick takes a second to think about what to do next. He looks around at the group he’s got gathered around him. It’s a small group, they couldn’t risk taking too many people with them, but they've always been more efficient in smaller groups anyways. They can make this work.

“Alright, this is what we’re going to do,” Rick says. “Maggie, Sasha, Michonne, you’re with me. Bob and Carol, you’re on watch with Tara. Stay close to the door, give us a signal if you need our help. Our first priority is to get Daryl and Glenn out of there, once we get them we’ll come back and figure out what we’re going to do next. They can’t be allowed to live, not after this.”

Nobody argues, not even Tara, and Rick's got to admit he's pleased. “Okay. In case shit gets messed up, does everyone remember our rendezvous point?” They’d passed by a secluded cabin on their way here. It was well hidden and protected, making it the perfect place to hole up if they needed to.

Everyone nods. “Good, let’s move out.” The seven of them set out quietly, the last thing they want to do is wake somebody up. In a few steps they cleared the woods, the backdoor was locked but Tara said she could pick it.

She had the lock picked in less than thirty seconds, something he hasn't even seen Daryl do that fast. “What?” she says when Rick gives her a weird look. “I know a thing or two about a thing or two.” This girl seems to be full of surprises.

“Alright then,” Rick steps through the door first, followed quickly by Maggie, Sasha, and Michonne. The door leads to a small landing, with stairs on the right that go up and stairs on the left that go down. Rick figures the steps down lead to a basement, which is most likely where they’re being held, so they head downwards.

The door isn’t locked, the handle turns easily in his hand, and the four of them are down the steps in just a few seconds. The steps lead into a room of concrete. There are no windows and only a measly little bulb hanging in the middle of the room. In the corner there’s a low metal table, covered in blood and who knows what else. Rick’s not worried about that right now though, he’s more worried about the two people chained on either side of the room.

Rick goes to Daryl immediately, while Maggie heads towards Glenn. “Oh god,” he says, falling to his knees in front of his mate. He’s only wearing a pair of boxers, leaving most of his body exposed. He’s covered in blood and stinks of sex, but Rick’s not going to address that right now. All he cares about is getting him to safety, they can talk about what’s happened later.

“Rick?” Daryl groans, slowly opening his eyes. His voice is rough and gravelly but it’s Daryl, his Daryl, and Rick’s heart starts to pound in his chest with their reunion.

“It’s me,” he says, resting his hands on either side of Daryl’s face. He soothes his thumbs over Daryl’s cheeks, resting his forehead against Daryl’s, just so he can verify the fact that he's real and not just a figment of his imagination. The ball of worry that’s been settled deep in his stomach since he realized he’d gone missing slowly unravels and Rick feels like he can finally breathe properly without the weight of the world pressing down on his chest.

“You look like hell,” Rick says, trying to keep his tone light.

Daryl smiles, splitting the cut on the corner of his lip open. “I feel like hell.”

“Try and find the keys for these,” Rick calls, without taking his eyes off of Daryl. Michonne keeps watch by the door while Sasha searches for the keys to the cuffs.

“Rick we’ve got a problem,” Maggie says, voice frantic. Rick turns around to get a better look at Glenn, only just now noticing the knife sticking out of his shoulder.

“Jesus,” he says, not taking his hands off of Daryl. “Sasha hurry, we need Bob to look Glenn over.”

Sasha doesn't say anything, just begins to search the nearby shelves for the anything they can use to get these cuffs off. Maggie’s looking after Glenn, so Rick focuses his attention back on Daryl. He looks like hell, like he’s being held together with duct tape and prayers, and a spike of anger strikes through him. He’s gonna kill the bastards who had the audacity to hurt the man he loves.

Daryl rests his head on Rick’s shoulder, breath slowly evening out into a calm pattern. Rick can feel Daryl’s entire body start to shake and wetness leaks out of his eyes. He knows he’s crying but he doesn't say anything, it was neither the time nor the place to bring anything like that up right now. He just cups the back of Daryl’s neck, hands smoothing over his skin in a way to keep him calm.

“You’re okay,” Rick says, soft enough so that only Daryl can hear him. “You’re okay now.”

Daryl lets himself lean against Rick for a few more seconds, basking in the calm that only his alpha can provide, before he pulls away again. Daryl looks like death warmed over, but Rick can see the strength return in Daryl’s eyes. He’s not an easy person to break, and Rick’s glad to know the Governor didn’t manage to break him.

Rick brushes Daryl’s sweaty locks out of the way and rests his forehead against Daryl’s. He catches sight of his claim mark, red and inflamed. It looks like someone had set fire to the mark and Rick can tell it’s painful. Another wave of anger runs through him. He doesn't want to think about the pain Daryl’s suffered here, he can’t think about the pain Daryl’s suffered here if he wants this plan to succeed.

It’s not long before Sasha brings him a set of keys and a pile of clothes. “Here, try these,” she says, handing over a set of keys. Rick recognizes the clothing as Daryl’s. “Found these, figured it’d be best if he got dressed.”

Rick quickly unchains Daryl’s wrists and helps him to stand. “‘m fine,” he mumbles, catching his balance on the wall. “Really, I am. They didn’t break me.”

“You sure?” Rick asks, hands reaching out to steady him.

“Yeah, go look at Glenn,” Daryl says. “He’s the one that’s been stabbed.”

Rick watches Daryl for a few seconds before he nods. “Sasha, go replace Bob. We need him down here so he can over Glenn.”

It’s not long before Daryl’s dressed and Bob’s carefully coming down the stairs. Rick’s standing in the middle of the room, watching as Bob examines Glenn’s wound, and Daryl comes to stand beside him. He grunts with the effort walking takes, and Rick knows he’s got to be in a hell of a lot of pain. He doesn't do anything, let’s Daryl make all the moves he's comfortable with. Once Daryl’s beside Rick he leans slightly on his shoulder and Rick takes it upon himself to wrap an arm around his waist, keeping him upright.

“How long ago did this happen?” Bob asks.

“Couple hours,” Glenn says, swallowing hard. He looks like hell, but at least he’s still alive. “There was no way for me to patch it up, nothing I could do to stop the bleeding, so I left it in.”

“That’s a good thing, actually,” Bob says. “Probably hurts more but it’s a good thing. The knife helps to slow the bleeding, if you would have removed it you probably would have bled to death. I don’t have time to fix this here, we’ve got to take him to the rendezvous point. We’ve got the right kind of supplies stashed there, I can fix this up in just a matter of minutes.”

“Alright, let’s get him up the stairs, meet up with the others,” Rick says. Daryl pulls away slightly so that he’s no longer relaying on Rick to support him, but he remains close and that helps to calm Rick’s Alpha instincts. Right now his body is screaming at him to run, take Daryl and get far away from where they were, but he can’t do that. He’s got to make sure Glenn gets taken care of and that the Governor and his people pay for what they’ve done. Maggie and Bob help get Glenn up the stairs, the rest of them quietly following them.

“Oh God,” Carol says as they all step out of the house. Carol’s eyes roam over Daryl’s face before she rests a hand on his cheek. Daryl doesn’t say anything, just rests his hand over hers in a kind gesture. They stay like that for a few seconds before Daryl pulls away.

“We don’t have time to talk,” Rick says, they were in too much of a hurry to talk about this in detail. “Maggie and Bob, you take Daryl and Glenn to the rendezvous point. There’s more supplies stashed there, you can patch Glenn up there and look over Daryl. Michonne, Carol, Sasha, you’re with me. We’ve got business to take care of.” He’s not really sure what to do with Tara at this point.

“I’m not going,” Daryl says, and really Rick’s not surprised he’s protesting. This was Daryl after all. It doesn’t matter if he’s minutes from dying, he’s not gonna let his people do this by themselves. Rick figures he’d find it admirable if it wasn’t so damn stupid. “You need my help.”

“Daryl I’m not-” Rick starts, only to be interrupted by Daryl.

“Don’t Rick, don’t you fuckin’ dare make me stay behind,” Daryl says, and Rick can tell by the look on his face there’s no way in hell he’s going to change the man’s mind. “I’m helping you get these bastards and that’s that. They deserve to die for what they've done, the need to die for what they've done.”

“Okay,” Rick says, nodding his head. “Okay.” He doesn’t like it, it’s clear to him Daryl’s not nearly as okay as he claims he is and all he wants right now is to get Daryl to safety, but he’s not going to fight him on this one. Daryl needs to do this, and Rick respects that. Rick’s got Daryl’s crossbow strung over his back, he brought it intending to give it to Daryl, and an extra gun and knife on him. He’s known Daryl for a long time now, he’d be a fool not to suspect he’d want in on the action. He hands over Daryl’s crossbow, a gun, and a hunting knife, and Daryl takes them like it’s second nature.

“I’m coming to,” Glenn says.

“No,” Maggie and Rick say at the same time. “That ain’t gonna happen.”

“You need my help, I can help you,” Glenn says, voice defiant.

“You’ve got a damn knife sticking in your shoulder,” Rick says, gesturing at Glenn’s injury. “What the hell do you think you can provide us?”

“Daryl’s not in any better shape,” Glenn says, and Rick can’t argue with that. “They’ve done more to him than they’ve done to me.”

“‘m fine,” Daryl says, and Rick can tell he’s everything but fine. Daryl shares a look with Glenn, an unspoken conversation happening between the two, and Glenn sighs heavily. He can tell that Daryl’s won him over.

Daryl looks dead on his feet, like he hasn’t slept in weeks, and it’s clear to see the hell he’s been through. He’s covered in cuts and bruises, coated in dried blood and probably more that Rick doesn’t even want to know about, and frankly Rick’s surprised he’s even standing. But, Rick gets why he needs to come. He doesn’t like it, but there’s no way in hell he’s gonna get Daryl to change his mind so he might as well accept it.

“We need him, and he doesn’t have a knife sticking out of his shoulder,” Rick says. Daryl gives him a grateful look and Rick just smiles.

“Okay,” Glenn says. Glenn’s pale and he can hardly stand, Maggie’s basically the only thing that’s keeping him standing. They needed to get him patched up as soon as possible or he’s gonna pass out.

“I’m coming as well,” Tara says. She must suspect Rick’s going to argue because she cuts him off the second he opens his mouth. “I’ve been in the house before, only once but I know where they all sleep. I can guide you around, make sure the ones who deserve to die do.”

“Who are you?” Daryl asks, regarding the girl with hooded eyes. Rick can tell there’s instant distrust within him, but that’s understandable considering the fact that Daryl’s only just met this girl. He doesn't trust easy, and he definitely isn't going to trust someone he’s only just now met.

“I’m Tara,” she says, and Rick watches recognition flash in Daryl’s eyes.

“They all think you’re dead,” he says.

“Yeah,” Tara says, eyes guarded. “And I want to keep it that way.” She doesn't say anymore on the subject and nobody’s willing to risk the conversation right now. “We have to be careful about this, remember there’re innocent people here. None of them will be in the Alpha house, but Martinez is in there. If he doesn't try and shoot anyone, don’t shoot him. He didn’t know about this, I can assure you of that, and he’s the only thing these people have. Kill him and this plan is fucked.”

“We’ll see,” Rick says. He’s not gonna make any promises, people get caught in the crossfire all the time. “Now we need to move. Daryl, Tara, Sasha, Michonne, you’re all with me. Bob, Carol, Maggie, take Glenn to the rendezvous point. If we’re not back by sun up, get to the prison. Do not look for us. If this fails, the Governor is gonna head straight towards the prison and you need to be there for when that happens.”

“We know,” Carol says, smiling sadly. They’d talked about everything in extreme detail before they enacted anything. She heads off with Bob, Maggie, and Glenn, leaving the others by themselves.

Rick doesn’t know if they’re going to make it out of this, doesn’t know what’s about to go down, but he can’t leave these people alive. They took his people and are a threat to his home, they’re all going down.

“Let’s go,” Rick says. They’re all armed with guns and knives, ready to do just about anything to keep their people safe. They didn’t want to draw attention to themselves with gun fire, but they needed the guns just in case something went wrong and they couldn't use their knife. Whatever’s about to happen, Rick knows there’s gonna be blood involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what'd you think? Originally I had intended to include the next part of the mission, that being to take out the Governor, but with that this would have been nearly eight thousand words and I didn't want to post something that long. It won't be long before I post it though, don't worry about that.
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you thought.


	8. Attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there's graphic violence in this chapter, you have been warned.

Rick steps through the back door as quiet as possible, the last thing he needs right now is to alarm anyone of their presence. Everything’s gone great so far and he desperately wants to keep it that way. He clicks on the flashlight in his hand before he and his group slowly make their way upwards. The stairs leading up are carpeted and don’t creek under their weight, something Rick’s entirely grateful for. He needs everything to go in their favor, both for their sake and for the sake of everyone at the prison.

When Rick reaches the door, he stops for a second to listen for any sign of life on the other side. It’s all quiet, not even a whisper of sound, and Rick deems it safe enough to enter. The door opens up into a kitchen and Rick’s eyes are immediately checking everything over. He’s got his gun up in front of him, sweeping every corner of the large room. It’s empty, not a sound can be heard, and Rick’s almost surprised they’ve made it this far without alarming anyone.

“Okay,” Tara says softly, looking around the room. Her eyes are roaming over every inch of the place, and Rick can’t help but admit he finds it a little awkward. “Dining room’s over there.” Before anyone can speak Michonne’s sweeping the room Tara pointed out. It’s nearly pitch black, their flashlights hardly give them any light, but after a few seconds Michonne comes out with her thumb up, silently signaling the room is clear. “Living room’s through here.”

Rick heads towards the doorway that Tara pointed at, stepping into the room. There’s a man passed out on one of the couches, empty bottle of booze resting on the coffee table in front of him, and another one sleeping in the chair near him. Before anyone can do anything, the sound of arrows whizzing through the air can be heard. Both of the sleeping men stop breathing, but then again arrows in your brain generally do that to you.

Rick turns his head to see Daryl standing next to him, staring at the man on the couch. Daryl walks over to them and grabs his arrows from their carcasses, wiping off the small remnants of blood on the tip of the pristine arrow. He looks completely out of it, like he’s gone to another dimension, and Rick’s starting to get a little worried about his stability. Maybe he should have insisted Daryl go with the others, no matter what Daryl says.

“You okay?” Rick asks, reaching out to rest a hand on Daryl’s shoulder.

“‘m fine,” he says gruffly, shrugging out of Rick’s grip. “Come on, we have work to do.”

Rick watches Daryl for a few seconds, before heading towards the next doorway. The archway leads to a split. There’s a hallway that leads immediately to the left and one that leads straight ahead. Rick motions for Sasha and Michonne to take the one to the left while Tara, Daryl, and Rick take the one that goes straight ahead.

There’s three doors in this hallway, two on the right and one on the left. “First one’s a bathroom,” Tara says. “Second one’s a bedroom, third one’s a closet.” Daryl opens the bathroom door, just to make sure there’s nobody in there. Rick can hear him pull back the shower curtain as he heads towards the second door. Before Rick can enter he hears Daryl move past him, checking the last door that Tara said lead to a closet just to make sure it is what she says it is. Rick doesn’t know why, but he’s still not entirely sure he can trust her.

Rick opens the door, quietly as he possibly can, and steps into the room. There’s a lump on the bed, mountain of blankets slowly rising up and down, and Rick can tell there’s a body in the bed almost instantly. He walks across the room, careful not to cause the wooden floorboards to creak under him. The man wakes up as Rick sidles up next to the bed. His actions go from groggy and confused to pure terror as Rick’s hand clamps down over his mouth.

Rick briefly wonders what this man had to do with Daryl’s torture, if he raped him or if he was just one of the men who brought him here. Right now Rick doesn't care, all he cares about is making sure these men pay for what they've done to the man he loves, whatever that may be. The idea that he might be innocent doesn't even cross his mind, none of these men were innocent and they were all gonna die for what they’d done to Daryl.

Rick has half the mind to make the end painful, but they're all in a hurry and he knows they need to get out of here as soon as possible. The man in bed starts thrashing, making minimal noise as he tries to get out of Rick’s grip. Before he can get free and scream for help Rick takes out his knife and plunges it through his eye socket. His frantic actions still instantly and Rick heaves a sigh of relief. He pulls out his knife and wipes off the excess blood on the blanket that’s covering him.

Their deaths have to be quick and silent, the last thing they need is the sound of gun fire letting everyone else in the camp know that something’s going down. They lucked out, coming so late. So far they've all been passed out, dead to the world, and Rick wants nothing else but for their mission to continue that way. Once he’s sure that the man in the bed is dead, Rick does a final sweep of the bedroom to make sure there’s nothing he’s missing. He checks in the closet and under the bed. Yeah, it makes him feel stupid. But right now he’d rather feel like an idiot than be the guy who screwed up and missed somebody.

By the time Rick steps out of the room, Sasha and Michonne have returned from their hallway. “How many?” Rick asks, voice nothing but a whisper.

Sasha holds up two fingers, indicating they’d taken out two others. With the two that Daryl had killed in the living room and the one that Rick had just killed, their total was already up to five.

“That’s all the rooms on the first floor. There’s more on the second,” Tara says, indicating the staircase at the end of the hallway.

The group heads up the stairs, careful not to let the stairs creek under their weight. The stairs lead to yet another split. The hallways aren't very long, you can clearly see the end of both of them from the stairs, and there’s roughly seven doors between the two. Rick motions for Sasha and Michonne to head down one section, him and Daryl will take the other.

“I’ll stand guard here,” Tara says.

Rick’s not sure how comfortable he is with that, but he has to admit he’ll feel more comfortable with someone on watch. He’s just gonna have to trust her to do it correctly and not get them all killed. “Fine, whistle if you need help.”

Rick carefully opens the first door he can see. It opens up into another bedroom, slightly smaller than the first one he was in. There’s another mound spread out in the middle of the queen sized bed, he can see the gentle rise and fall of the blankets telling him that the man is breathing. Rick ends that, quickly plunging the knife through the man’s eye socket before he even knows what hits him. Once again he finds his mind wandering to what he might have done to Daryl, but he tries to block it out. The knife squelches as he pulls it out and Rick quickly checks the rest of the room.

Rick’s done and almost out of the room when hears a thud from out in the hallway. He rushes to the door as quietly as he can, trying not to make too much noise, and is met with the sight of Tara standing over a body on the ground in front of her. There’s blood dripping from her knife but she looks oddly okay with it.

“I told you to whistle,” Rick says through gritted teeth.

“You told me to whistle if I needed help, I didn’t,” Tara replies, rubbing the back of her knife on her jeans to clear it of blood. Rick thinks he just might have underestimated this girl and feels better about having her on watch.

Daryl appears beside Rick, staring down at the ground. His eyes don’t leave that body for at least fifteen seconds and Rick’s seriously starting to worry about him. He’s just suffered severe trauma, he shouldn't be here right now. But he can’t suggest that to Daryl, unless he wants him to think Rick only sees him as a pussy who can’t take care of himself.

Rick resists the urge to run a hand down Daryl’s back. He’s obviously hurting, whatever happened to him still weighing on his mind, but they’ll talk about that later. Daryl shakes his head and spits on the man’s body.

“Pig,” Daryl mutters, before he turns away to stalk back down the hallway to clear another room. Michonne and Sasha head back down their hallway after Rick’s gesture that everything’s under control. Rick shares a look with Tara before he follows after Daryl, intent on clearing another room.

Rick finds another room, door closed meaning Daryl hasn't gotten to this one yet. There’s another guy in Rick’s room, and he kills him quickly. This is beginning to seem like second nature, killing the man in bed quickly before he clears the room. He doesn't really like the fact that they’re so spread out, in different room and in different hallways, but he has to admit this is the best way to execute this. They need to do this quick and efficient, meaning they have to split up.

When Rick’s sure there’s no one else in his room, he heads back out to the hallway. There’s only one other closed door left, the others have all been cleared out, and Rick heads towards it. He opens the door only to come across a perfectly made bed, no sign of anybody. Just to make sure Rick double checks everything, underneath the bed and the closet. When he doesn't find anything he heads back to where he left Tara. Thankfully there’s no more surprises.

It’s not long before Michonne and Sasha are joining them. “How many?” Rick asks, and they each hold up a finger. Some people may think the way they’re casually throwing up their fingers as a way to represent the men they just killed seems a little barbaric, but Rick’s far past that point right now. These are the men who traumatized his mate and threatened his people, he’s not going to let them live.

A minute after Sasha and Michonne make it back, Daryl still hasn't returned. Rick’s starting to worry, waves of Alpha instincts are flooding through him and all he wants to do is go after him. He gives it another few minutes before he does anything. He doesn't want to give Daryl the impression that he can’t do anything himself, but he’s not gonna sit there and wait for the worst to happen. Daryl should have been back by now and Rick’s going to see what’s taking him so long.

Rick waves off the others as he makes his way towards the door he had seen Daryl disappear through. He takes a deep breath before he steps into the room, quiet as a mouse. He finds Daryl right away, his strong and powerful omega. Rick’s never seen him like this, almost like he’s catatonic, and Rick’s not sure what he’s supposed to do.

Daryl’s standing at the head of the bed, arm moving repeatedly up and down. It takes Rick a second to realize he’s stabbing the man on the bed repeatedly. It’s hard to say, the face is almost completely covered in blood and torn skin, but Rick’s fairly certain it’s the Governor. There’s an arrow sticking out of one of his eyes and the other one is covered by a familiar black eye patch. Rick definitely knows it’s the Governor now.

“Daryl,” Rick says softly, but there’s no response. Rick takes a few steps towards him, reaching out a hand for him, and tries again. “Daryl, babe, what are you doing.”

“You didn’t break me,” he says, angrily sinking his knife into the Governor’s face once again. Rick can hear bones cracking under the impact. “You didn’t fucking break me.” His voice is starting to get a little louder and Rick’s desperate to prevent him from getting too loud. "You can't touch them, you can't hurt Carl and Judith, you can't hurt Rick, you can't hurt the prison."

“Daryl,” Rick says, his voice still as calm as he can get it. Rick’s hoping the sound of his voice and his gentle touch is going to be enough to get Daryl to stop whatever catatonic state he’s in right now, but Rick’s not sure if it will. He’s never seen anyone so out of it. Rick finally reaches a hand out to rest on Daryl’s shoulder, and that seems to do the trick. “Daryl look at me.”

Daryl stops what he’s doing and turns to look at Rick. His eyes are wide, terrified, and his face is covered with blood spatters. Rick glances down at Daryl right hand, the one he’d been using his knife with, and he can see more blood spatters covering his pale skin.

He looks terrified, Rick’s never seen him like this, and he’s covered in another man’s blood. Rick doesn't care about that right now, he completely gets it. The Governor did horrible things to Daryl, things that Rick can’t even properly comprehend, and he’d honestly be shocked if Daryl didn’t react like this. Rick can literally smell the emotions rolling off of him. There’s fear, anger, and relief all wrapped into one giant confusing ball of emotion. No wonder Daryl’s so confused, it’s disorienting to Rick and he’s just smelling them.

“He’s dead,” Rick says, moving his hand up Daryl’s shoulder so it’s resting on the side of his neck. Slowly his thumb starts moving up the taut muscle, trying his best to relax him. “He’s dead, Daryl, you killed him. Now let’s go, okay? Your job is done, we can go now.”

Daryl’s gaze is fuzzy for a few more seconds before he seems to snap out of whatever trance he’s in. He wipes his knife off on the bed sheet and sheaths it before he steps back from the bed. “I ain't nobody’s bitch,” he growls, spitting at the Governor. His gob of spit gets lost in the Governor's blood covered face but Rick doesn't think Daryl cares. “Nobody’s. Come on.”

Daryl pushes past Rick and heads out the door, already on his way over to where Tara and them are waiting. Rick sighs and follows after him. When the two of them get to the hallway nobody says anything, something that Rick’s incredibly grateful for. He doesn’t think Daryl can handle anyone’s looks of pity right now, and he really doesn’t want to explain just how brutal Daryl was. Rick gets it, he fully encourages it after the hell he’s been through, but he just doesn't want to talk about it right now.

“Alright,” Rick says, once the five of them are together again. “So we killed five downstairs, I called two up here, Tara killed one, and Sasha and Michonne each killed one. That’s ten, how many did you get Daryl?”

“Two,” he says, voice almost completely back to normal. “Including the Governor, that makes twelve total. That’s everyone who took me and Glenn, I'm sure of it."

“Nobody saw Martinez?” Rick asks, looking around at the people around him. Everyone shakes their heads no. “Well he’s got to be-”

The sound of the front door opening downstairs can be heard, cutting Rick off mid sentence.

“Watch change,” Tara says, voice not even a whisper but they all heard it. "Must be time for a switch."

Rick doesn't hesitate to react. The five of them all have their guns drawn as they head down the stairs single file, careful not to make a noise. They reach the bottom of the stairs without any mishaps.

Martinez is standing there, looking tired as hell, and Rick almost feels sorry for him. This mess can’t be easy to deal with, especially because he’s sure he doesn't have anything to do with it. The second he sees them standing there, weapons drawn and ready to shoot, he raises his hands in surrender. “Wait, just wait,” he says frantically, tripping over the words as he tries to get them out in time.

“Why should we?” Daryl asks. His crossbow is drawn, pointing straight at Martinez, and Rick knows he won’t hesitate to kill the man, knows none of them will hesitate to kill him, maybe not even Tara. Rick generally believes Martinez is a good guy, but he won’t hesitate to do what’s necessary to protect the people he loves.

“This can end, right here right now,” Martinez says, hands still raised in defeat. “We can go our separate ways, never see each other again. We’ll stay on our side, you stay on your side. There’s no reason why the people here need to even know about your camp, they’re good people who deserve the best chance at living. I can make this work.” Rick can tell Martinez is genuine, but this isn't a decision he can make by himself.

Martinez must sense Rick’s still not entirely sold because he quickly starts to talk again. “You got rid of the people who hurt your people, I get that. Hell, I was expecting that to happen the second I saw Brian bring in Glenn and Daryl. I’m not even angry at what you did, I get it. He took your people, you took his people. That’s fair.”

“You didn’t do shit to stop it,” Rick says, gaze hard. He may not have been in on it from the start but he didn’t do anything to make it stop, and in Rick’s book that’s just as bad.

“I was waiting for the right moment, I couldn’t exactly just tell Brian. He would have killed me on the spot,” Martinez explains and Rick’s got to admit he’s got a point. “I’ve got people to protect, this camp has become my prison.” Rick know Martinez said those words specifically because he knows it’ll hit home with Rick. “And I’ll do what it takes to protect it.

“Brian’s been giving me hell since the moment he showed up, honestly you’ve done me a favor by taking him out. I’m assuming you killed the other Alphas as well.” Rick doesn’t speak and Martinez takes that as confirmation. “Took out a lot of my manpower, but they were a bunch of hotheads who gave me more trouble than they’re worth. I’ve spent most of my time trying to keep them off of the unmated than anything else.

“You killed everyone who kidnapped and tortured your people, I respect that. But you also got the trouble makers off my hands. I can think of something to patch this up, get the heat off of you guys. None of the people here even know you guys exist, I’ll come up with some story to explain this, don’t you worry about that. We won’t bother you anymore. We can call it quits right here,” Martinez says. “Go our separate ways, nobody else has to die.”

“He’s right,” Daryl says, and Rick turns to look at him. “The people who caused problems are gone, Martinez just wants to keep his camp together. I respect that, god knows what I’d do to keep the prison together.”

“Okay,” Rick says after a few seconds of speculation. He trusts Daryl’s judgment better than he trusts anyone’s, better than he trusts his own, and if he’s willing to do this than Rick can go along with it. “Okay.”

Rick lowers his weapon and the rest of the group follows suit. “Nobody else needs to die,” he says. He doesn’t completely put away his gun, but it’s no longer pointing directly at Martinez so it’s a start.

Martinez nods and slowly lowers his hands. “Good, good. Wait, aren’t you Tara?” he asks once he catches sight of Tara. “Everyone thinks you’re dead.”

“Yeah, I’d like to keep it like that,” she says, ducking her head.

“But your sister’s been worried sick about you,” Martinez says. “We had a memorial for you and everything.”

“Yeah, well, that explains why this was so easy. That happens when you’re piss drunk.” She chuckles, but everyone can tell she really doesn’t mean it to be a laughing manor. “It’s better that Lilly think I’m dead than the person who brought them here,” Tara says, sadness in her eyes.

“She won’t know you had anything to do with this,” Martinez says, gesturing in a wide arc. “I’ll make sure to leave you out of whatever story I tell, you’re still welcome here.”

“No, no I’m not,” Tara says, shaking her head. “We fought before I took off, she said some stuff I know she doesn’t mean but she’ll still never accept me for me. It's just going to be fight after fight after fight of the same thing and I'm tired of it.”

Tara looks down at her feet, almost like she’s still trying to gather her thoughts. “Besides, she’ll still blame me for what happened. I know Lilly, believe me she will. Think about it,” she says, sighing. “I turn up alive but Brian mysteriously winds up dead? Whatever story you concoct, she’ll find some way to blame me. That’s who she is.”

“You saved my people,” Rick says, defending Tara. “You did a good thing, she’ll understand that.”

“No,” Tara says, turning to look at him. “No she won’t. No matter what she’ll see me as the person that got her boyfriend killed, and I can’t take that. I love my sister, and I know she loves me. I want her to remember me as someone she loved.”

Tara sighs. “I’m a shit liar, anyways. Once people start blubbering I’ll feel the need to blow the whole thing, and I definitely don’t want to do that. The best way for me to protect the people I care about is to disappear. We can’t afford any suspicions if we want this to work. Plus, I think Beth might be my true mate.”

“Wait, what,” Daryl says, protective instinct sliding into place. “When did you meet Beth?” He doesn’t seem hostile, more like the protective older brother who’s finding out his little sister might have found a mate for the first time. Rick finds it kind of sweet.

“Oh stop,” Sasha says playfully. “Beth can take care of herself, I hear she’s learned from the best.” That brings a smile to Daryl’s face and Rick’s once again thankful for Sasha’s presence.

Well,” Rick says, resting a hand on Tara’s shoulder. “You’re welcome to come back with us. You saved my people, that makes you one of us in my eyes.”

Tara smiles and Rick can tell she’s thankful. He can see the tears in her eyes but he doesn’t say anything, figures she’s not ready to talk right now.

“You should go,” Martinez says finally. “It’s late and I’ve still got a lot of work to do.”

Rick nods, looking Martinez up and down. Jesus he hopes he’s not making a mistake keeping this man alive. “We’re out of here,” Rick says. Martinez nods and Rick and his group head out the back door. Rick’s still not sure if it’s the best idea, but he wants to keep the peace between their people. Hopefully it’ll last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what'd you think? I tried to make everything fit together but I feel like I completely screwed this chapter up. I wanted them to go throughout the house without making to much ruckus because I really didn't want to alarm everyone else in the camp, which kind of makes it seem a little unrealistic and I'm sorry. This chapter wasn't my best, I'm sorry.
> 
> Let me know what you thought.


	9. Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Tara talks in some detail about what happened to her, but it's mostly focused on what she did to overcome it. This chapter could trigger some people, so please read at your own caution.

"Hey," Tara says, as she makes her way through the door of the watch tower.   
  
Daryl's sitting there, in that chair they've got unfolded in the middle of the room for those they've got on watch, with his eyes never leaving the outlying scenery. Tara can hear Daryl's hands taping out a rhythm, she can't tell if it's a song from before the apocalypse are just a random pattern but it seems to keep him calm. He doesn't speak, doesn't make any acknowledgement that he can sense Tara's presence, and Tara watches as his eyes flick back and forth nervously as he studies the woods.  
  
"I brought you some food, Rick's really worried about you. I know he'd feel better if you ate something," she says, stepping forward. Tara can't see Daryl's face from where she's standing but she watches as Daryl's shoulders heave at the mention of Rick.   
  
Tara hands over a small bowl of some kind of beef stew, but Daryl refuses to take it. Tara's not surprised, he's hardly eaten at all in the past week and everyone was seriously starting to get worried about him.  
  
"Not hungry," Daryl says, not taking his eyes off the outlying territory and Tara knows it's gonna be hell getting him to eat anything. She can tell that Daryl's purposefully ignoring her comment about Rick, but the name had brought some sort of reaction out of him.  
  
"Rick's worried, if I bring him back a full bowl he'll only worry more," Tara points out, hoping to pull Daryl out of his head.   
  
Daryl doesn't say anything for several seconds. "So," he says with a haphazard shrug, "Rick worries too much. I'm fine, as I've told him multiple times."  
  
"Damn it Daryl," Tara says, setting the bowl at his feet. Any idiot could tell that Daryl's the furthest thing from fine, but the archer is too stubborn to say a thing. "You can't keep doing this. I don't know when's the last time I saw you eat, you spend all your time either hunting or sitting up here on watch, and you hardly sleep. The prison is worried, and Rick's gonna blow a gasket trying to get you to take care of yourself."  
  
"I don' need anyone's pity," Daryl says, and Tara can hear the venom in his voice. "An' I certainly don' need someone I don' even know talkin' to me as if they've known me my whole life. I said I was fine and I meant it, now go. Give the food to someone else."  
  
Tara doesn't flinch, after all she's expecting Daryl's reaction to go something like that. She may not have been around Daryl for very long, but it doesn't take a genius to realize his way of dealing with pain is lashing out in any way possible.  
  
Tara takes a deep breath, preparing herself for what she's about to say. There's a reason why it's her that's brought Daryl the food and not someone who knows him better. Maggie was going to do it, but Tara had offered to take her place. It probably seemed weird, the newbie offering to take care of Daryl, but she saw herself in Daryl and right now she feels like it's time the two of them talk. If he kept this up any longer he was gonna get himself killed, and Tara isn't going to let that happen.  
  
"Alright, Dixon," Tara says, sitting in the spare chair folded up against the wall. Her tone seems casual, probably more casual than it should considering how serious the subject matter was, but if she started talking formally Daryl would kick her out quicker than you could say walker. He'd think she was belittling him and right now that's the last thing she wants. "We need to talk."  
  
"I don't even-" Daryl starts off, but Tara interrupts him. She's not going to let him ruin this conversation because it damn well needs to happen. Daryl may be putting on a tough guy front, but she can see the signs of inner turmoil eating away at his insides. After this, if he wants her gone, she'll go willingly. But she'd never forgive herself if she didn't at least try and help Daryl.  
  
"Nope," Tara cuts him off, finger over her lips. "I'm talking." Daryl looks a little taken aback by her tone, but he doesn't seem to comment. "You don't wanna talk? Fine, but you're going to listen to me because what I have to say is important."  
  
"I understand how your feeling," Tara says and she's not the least bit surprised when Daryl's face snaps towards her, features twisting into a hard scowl. Daryl hates being pitted, and to him this seems a lot like pity.  
  
Tara doesn't make a comment on Daryl's reaction, just goes on talking like it never happened. "You're feeling scared, vulnerable, disgusted, hatred, confusion, sadness."  
  
Daryl clenches his fists together but doesn't say a word. Tara's not sure if that's because he's fighting back the impulse to punch her or because he's fighting the urge to flee, she'll take either one.  
  
"You're feeling all those emotions at once, and because you’re Daryl fucking Dixon you feel like you have to be some macho machine who eats nails for breakfast and never cries. But that's a defense mechanism you use, especially now with what's happened, to hide your insecurities.  
  
"I've seen you with Judith and Carl this past week, and it's clear to me that you'd do anything to protect them," Tara starts off. "You've hardly spoken to anyone, not even Rick, but you still try your hardest to give them the attention they need because you'd never do anything to hurt them. You've got a hurricane swirling inside of you and you've still taken the time to spend time with your kids. That shows me the kind of person you are."  
  
Tara watches Daryl for a few seconds before she continues. "You care about these people so damn much, you'd do anything to protect everyone here because that's the kind of person you are. You care, Daryl, you care so fucking much, and that's why you've closed up. Because you don't want them to see you as anything less than the person who'll do anything to protect them."  
  
"Where are you going with this, huh?" Daryl lashes out, standing up so fast he knocks his chair over.  
  
"I'm getting there," Tara says patiently, not pausing to give Daryl the chance to talk. "You hide behind this shield of darkness, never letting anyone see you at your most vulnerable, probably have your entire life." Tara will admit that that is just a well educated guess, but considering the way Daryl reacts she'll say she was pretty spot on.  
  
"You hide what you're feeling, especially now given what's happened, because you don't want anyone to see you vulnerable," Tara says softly. "I bet it was getting better with Rick, with Judith and Carl, with the people here, but now that you've been hurt that shield is coming up and your closing off the people you love the most because you don't want to hurt them. Believe me, I know the feeling."'  
  
Daryl doesn't say anything, but his gaze hardens and his lips tighten and Tara's just gonna take that as a sign that she hit the nail on its head.  
  
"I presented as an omega when I was young, younger than is usual, and no one had really had "the talk" with me, if you catch my drift," Tara says. Daryl looks over at her, probably confused about the sudden change in topic, but there's always a method to her madness so Tara just keeps talking.   
  
"Sure I knew the basic biology of everything, but nothing about it in detail," Tara starts, voice going soft. "My parents divorced when me and my sister were young and I had lived with my mom, an Alpha, ever since. She tried to help, but she didn't know what to do with me. She figured it'd be better if I got help from my father, who was a beta, so I went to go live with my Dad.  
  
"My sister was already living there, and it was really nice living with her again. We got close, and things got better. I started to understand who I was and how everything worked which eventually morphed into acceptance," Tara says. "I was happy." This conversation was starting to bring up some painful memories.   
  
"Only problem? I wasn't attracted to alpha males like all the books said I would be, I was attracted to omega females." Tara waits a few seconds for some kind of reaction, but she found none. Either Daryl was really accepting or really disgusted and not willing to say anything.  
  
"Being attracted to the same sex was different, but there are a lot of people who didn't view that as an issue so I could handle that. It was being attracted to omegas that was the problem. I struggled with those feelings for years before I got up the courage to tell my family. My dad was cool with it, hell he was ecstatic," Tara says, smiling. "To him, that just meant that he didn't have to worry about having to scare off alpha males. He'd rather see me with an omega female than an Alpha who could very easily abuse the power he held over me."  
  
"What does this have to do with anything?" Daryl asks. He's starting to get snippy and Tara knows she better get to the point quickly.   
  
"I'm getting there," Tara says, sighing. "My sister didn't understand my... "choice" as she put it. To this day I don't know if she just didn't have the capacity to understand or if she was just too ignorant, I guess they kind of go hand and hand.  
  
"Anyways, she bombarded me for months, trying to hook me up with different Alphas," Tara says, looking down at her feet. Her palms were starting to sweat, and she had to fight back the impulse to flee that was welling up in her stomach. "Mostly males, but some females. She just couldn't drop the issue. As my older sister, all she wanted to do was set me up with a nice alpha who could take care of me," Tara said, venom in her voice.   
  
"'Oh Tara,' she would say, 'you just need to find the right alpha to settle down with, someone who's big and strong and good looking, someone who can protect and take care of you. How are you going to get anywhere without someone to take care of you?"  
  
Daryl snorts and Tara feels instantly like he's mocking her. "What, you think that's funny Hawkeye?" she said, slightly hostile.   
  
Daryl breaks out into a smile, the first genuine smile Tara has ever seen on his face, and she can't stop herself from smiling. Maybe there was someone who's read those comics after all.   
  
"I just think it's funny," Daryl says, turning to face Tara, "that your sister thought you needed someone to take care of you. I don't know you well, but from what I've seen you're pretty bad ass. I think you can take care of yourself pretty well."  
  
Tara blushes and runs a hand through her hair. No one's ever said something like that to her and she's got to admit it feels good. "Yeah well, my sister didn't see it that way. When I was seventeen I got fed up with her constant bombardment, so when she told me she found a beta woman who wanted to take me out, I caved."  
  
"Why?" Daryl asks, and Tara smirks. Daryl was interested in her story now.  
  
"The picture Lilly showed me of her was really hot, plus who doesn't turn down free food? Lilly told me she was nineteen, a reasonable age for me, and I figured what was the worst that could happen?  
  
"She said she was taking me out to a fancy restaurant, a restaurant that we could never afford on our own, and I liked the idea of being treated nicely," Tara says, trailing off. She was only seventeen, perhaps if she had been older she would have had enough sense to turn it down. "I figured I'd go and see what happened. Worst case scenario, I'd have a horrible date and good food. Best case scenario, I'd have good food and the possibility of getting laid."  
  
Daryl's lips twitched at that and Tara couldn't help but smile. "Guessing it didn't go as planned?" Daryl asks.  
  
Tara took a deep breath, trying not to panic. She'd never told anyone the story in detail, not even her family, and the thought of spilling her darkest secret to a man she hardly knew terrifies her.  
  
"When the doorbell rang, I was expecting a hot girl close to my age," Tara says, clutching her hands together. "Instead, I got a 6 foot tall man dressed in his best suit and clearly much older than me. The second I laid eyes in him I knew he was exactly the type of alpha I would hate. He was wearing so much aftershave I almost threw up and that still didn't hide his over powering alpha stretch. He was posturing and I was annoyed."  
  
"Your sister misled you?" Daryl asks, surprised, and Tara can only nod.  
  
"I was so pissed off, beyond pissed off, and the last thing I wanted was to go out with this bastard. But Lilly was in my ear in seconds, 'just give him a shot, you might end up liking it more than you think.' So I went," Tara says with a scoff.  
  
"I knew before we even got to the car that the night was going to be horrible. He was your typical alpha, you know the ones who think they're greater than God and deserve the utmost of respect?" Tara asks, and Daryl nods his head. Tara's sure he's dealt with his fair share of alpha dicks.  
  
"He was a total dick to me, and didn't seem to even care about what I wanted. He ordered for me, wouldn't let me talk directly to the waitress, and kept bringing the conversation back around to how rich and important he was. Within the first five minutes I wanted to stab him with my fork."  
  
Tara stopped talking as she thought about how to bring up the next part of her story. She was absolutely terrified, could feel tear drops welling in her eyes, and she wasn't sure she could get through this without crying. But it had to be done.  
  
"To make a long story short, the guy drugged my drink when I went to the bathroom," Tara says, and she watches as Daryl's fist clench tightly. He seemed to be able to sense were this story was going.  
  
"Obviously I didn't know it at first and it wasn't long before I was so woozy I could barely stand. Nobody said anything, I don't know if that was because they didn't know or if they just refused to say anything," Tara says with a sigh.  
  
"I was acting weird and people started starting, but the dick waved them off and nobody stepped up to help. He claimed I just had had too much to drink, and the table next to us started laughing. 'That's why omegas shouldn't drink,' one guy said," Tara scoffs. "It doesn't matter if I was only seventeen and hadn't been drinking, they just automatically believed the guy I was with.  
  
"My mouth was so dry I could barely open it, my limbs and my tongue weren't working correctly, and I couldn't call out for help. I was dizzy, the man I was with had to literally carry me to the car, I couldn't even walk. Whatever he had given me, it was some pretty strong shit. I passed out before we even got to the car, woke up in the middle of..."  
  
Tara pressed a fist over her mouth, holding back the sound of her heaving voice. Daryl didn't reach out and try to comfort her, something that Tara greatly appreciated. She doesn't think she'd be able to handle someone's touch right now. He may not have reached out for her, but she can feel his eyes on her and to her that was enough.  
  
"I woke up in the middle of him raping me. I was woozy, so out of it, that I could hardly tell what was going on. Even now I can't remember all the details, just that there was definitely more than one rapist. I kept passing out and waking up in the same position with different men on top of me, this went on for hours," Tara says, clenching her eyes shut tightly.  
  
"I don't know how long this lasted, can't even begin to understand how long it lasted. Eventually the medication they'd given me started to wear off so they huddled my naked body into a car. We drove for a while, I was starting to come to but my body was in so much pain I couldn't move." Tara brushes angrily at the tears leaking down her cheeks.  
  
"They left me on the side of the road, probably figured I would die. I was freezing, so fucking cold, and everything hurt. I couldn't move, couldn't do anything. Eventually a car found me, drove me to the hospital, and called my Dad.  
  
"I was in the ICU for a while, broken bones, internal bleeding, and the beginnings of hypothermia. It was bad, really bad, and it took months of recovery for me to heal. Once I was able to I tried to file a report, but you know how that goes," Tara says, voice trailing off. "I was the omega who cried rape, nobody believed I had nothing to do with it."  
  
Tara can tell her cheeks are wet. Her eyes hurt, her head is pounding, and her chest feels so tight she's sure she won't be able to breathe soon. It takes her a few minutes to get herself under control, but eventually she's able to look up at Daryl.  
  
"I'm sorry that happened to you," Daryl says, and Tara can tell he really does mean it. "Nobody deserves to be treated like that."  
  
Tara shrugs, wiping at her eyes. It'd been years since this had happened to her and she still remembered it like it was yesterday.  
  
"Like I said, the report fell through. Most people just saw me as the omega whore who didn't get her way so she cried rape. I pushed everyone away, my dad, my sister, and my friends. I locked myself in my room, I didn't eat, I didn't sleep, I was basically a comatose robot," Tara says. This was the real reason she was telling Daryl her story. She'd basically acted exactly how he was acting right now, and she will never forgive herself if she does nothing to help.  
  
"I was a horrible person. I didn't leave my room, I didn't talk to anyone, I kept myself in this little cocoon of safety because at least no one could hurt me there," Tara says, looking directly at Daryl.  
  
"But then, I realized something. It wasn't getting anywhere. Me hiding away from the world wasn't going to accomplish anything," Tara says. "My Dad's the one who broke through to me. He talked to me, got me to see that I was only hurting myself. He convinced me to see a therapist, at least try it out once, and it helped me so much.  
  
"She made me realize that what happened wasn't my fault, that I wasn't asking for it. I was attacked, I was hurt, and everything I was doing to protect myself would only hurt me more." Tara folds her hands together and rests them on my knee.  
  
"I realized my family still loved me, they cared about me, they tried so hard to help me with the attack. My Dad basically broke his back trying to accommodate for me. I felt so horrible about myself, I hated everything about me. I looked in the mirror and I hated the person I saw. And it didn't just magically go away. Even now, all these years later, I still break down when I think about it.  
  
"I may have felt worthless and alone, but I craved love from the most important people in my life. My therapist helped me see that. I felt disgusting, and the only thing I wanted was reassurance from the people who loved me most that everything was going to be okay. Letting them in helped me in ways that I still don't understand. I didn't do it all at once, I started with my Dad, than my sister. Things got better, I got better. The hurt never leaves, but it does start to numb and I was able to move past it."  
  
Daryl's fists aren't clenched tightly anymore and Tara's gonna take that as a good sign. "Talking helps, no matter who it is. Keeping everything bottled up is just going to cause more problems. Now I'm not saying to tell the god damn world that you're hurting inside, all I'm saying is that telling someone will be good for you. I'm not going to give you the 'time heals all wounds' speech because I know that won't help. It never gets completely okay, it's not easy, and it's gonna hurt like a bitch. But slowly, you'll regain pieces of the person you used to be. And eventually, you'll see that you can actually function without wanting to break down."

Tara stops for a second, makes sure that Daryl gets what she's saying, and continues. "Rick's hurting, you’re hurting, and the only one who can fix this is you. Let him in, don't push him away any more than you already have. Rick can help you, Daryl. He loves you, let him help."

Daryl doesn't comment, doesn't even move. His body is tense, Tara can see the sweat dripping down his brow, and it’s easy to see that she really struck a nerve.   
  
Several minutes later, she knows she's made her point when she sees Daryl pick up the bowl. When Daryl brings the spoon to his lips, Tara takes that as her cue to leave. She stands up, arching his back to stretch her sore muscles.   
  
She's almost out the door when she hears Daryl speak. "Tara?"  
  
Tara stops at the door that leads out of the guard tower. "Yeah?"  
  
"Thank you, for... well you know."   
  
Tara winks and holds up her hands in a goodbye. "Anytime."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while since I've updated, but second semester of college classes have started and they've sucked me in. Right now I'm really sick, and since I didn't go to class today I decided to use this break as a chance to update this story. I'm thinking maybe a few more chapters until this gets wrapped up, but we shall see. As always, if you have any suggestions/things you want to see just leave them in the comments and I'll try and incorporate them. 
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed.
> 
> (I actually kind of liked this one, but considering the fact that I can barely see I'm so sick and I wrote this half asleep that may not be so, lol.)


	10. Showers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Daryl has a flashback to him being raped (if this may trigger you, please skip over it. the flashback is in italics)

It’s been nearly two weeks since the rescue, a few days after Daryl’s talk with Tara, and he hasn't seen any sign of Martinez. He hasn't stopped his scouting, not for a second. When he goes hunting, he’s checking the surrounding woods for signs that anyone’s been there. When he’s on watch, he doesn't take his eyes off the road or the surrounding woods. When he’s clearing the fence of walkers, his eyes scan the woods for signs of anyone who isn't supposed to he there. Whatever Daryl does, he finds a way to turn it into a lookout for Martinez. It keeps him busy, keeps his mind off of dealing with what’s happened to him, and he takes small comfort in that.

It’s not that he’s expecting Martinez to show up guns blazing, Daryl knows he’s an honest man who sticks to his word. He’s sure Martinez will keep his people away from the prison, Daryl never would have let him live if he didn’t think that. But if for some reason their plan backfires, if something happens and their plan to keep the two camps separate gets foiled, he doesn't want to get blindsided by an army of pissed off people.

The last thing the prison needs right now is another war on their hands. The place has grown in the months since the Governor’s first attack, they've got kids, some just brand new pups, and the last thing Daryl wants is for them to witness how ugly other people can be. That’s why he’s been keeping watch, to make sure that nothings wrong. That's his job, what he's here for. It's his job to keep these people safe, keep the prison standing. It’s been nearly two weeks and he hasn't seen a sign that anything strange has been near the prison. Daryl figures if something had happened, he or someone else in prison would have found out by now.

Daryl’s by the fence now, killing off straggling walkers. He doesn't need to do this, the fences are holding just fine, but it gives him something to do, something to think about when his head gets so full of information it feels like he’s going to explode. It’s late, he should probably get inside, but keeping busy helps take his mind off of things he doesn't want to think about. He jabs his pole through the eye of walker and moves down the line to attack another one.

The night is cold enough that Daryl can see his breath, but he doesn't mind it. The brisk cold and the repetitive action clears his head, makes everything seem a little more bearable. Sometimes he just needs to clear his head, get away from the stuffiness of the prison and the looks that people keep throwing at him.

He can handle the looks that Glenn and Carol and Hershel and the rest of the original crew give him, he knows they’re just worried about him. Every now and then they’ll throw him a quick glance to make sure he’s in one piece, make sure he hasn't collapsed from exhaustion or something else, and he can handle that. They don’t pity him, don’t want to rub his back and say everything’s going to be okay. All they care about is making sure he gets enough food and water so he doesn't pass out. They know Daryl’s not perfect, know this better than anyone, and are willing to let him do what he needs to do to get his life back on track.

They now that this is Daryl’s way of dealing with really tough shit, so they make sure to give him the space he needs to breathe while still making sure he’s taking care of himself. If he really needs any of them, he’ll go to them and they know it. The group’s fine taking the backseat until they’re sure Daryl’s ready to have all of them around him and he likes that, he can handle that. They’re there but they’re not _there_ , and Daryl’s lucky to have found a group of people who understand him so well.

It’s the others he can’t handle, the newcomers. They see him as a provider, the group’s confidant, the man who’ll do anything for anybody without a second glance because that’s the kind of person he is. They see him as a hero, no matter how many times Daryl’s tries to deter them from that idea, and Daryl would be damned if he looked like a broken bitch in front of them. He doesn't know them well enough to let down his guard in front of them, so if he has to act like nothing’s wrong he will.

The problem is that they’re always there. There’s always someone looking, someone smiling, someone reaching out to touch him, and Daryl feels like he’s going to explode. He can’t catch a fucking break. He’s barely holding it together, his insides feel like they’re slowly unraveling, but there’s people who rely on him for protection and food and supplies. How is he supposed to stop and get his head screwed on straight when there’s always so much that needs to be done?

They aren't stupid. They know something had happened to him and Glenn, but hardly anyone’s been filled in on the whole story. Rumors had flown throughout the prison about what had happened, and the looks of pity Daryl had received because of it was enough to set his teeth on edge. He decided then and there that he was going to play the strong card, act like nothing was wrong with him and that everything was just fine and dandy. Apparently Daryl’s a decent actor because it worked, and the looks of pity stopped.

He’s the strong one, the one who never breaks, the one who brings home meat on his hunts and supplies on his runs. It doesn't matter that there’s so many other people who do the same damn thing, that’s who he is and that’s who he’s going to portray himself as. So he’s been building this shield up around him, making him look like he’s fucking fine and dandy when really he wants to break inside.

He’s scared and he’s angry and he’s so god damn hurt, but he can’t show any of that emotion because these people believe in him, they rely on him. If they knew Daryl, _the Daryl Dixon_ as many of them put it, had been kidnapped, beaten, and raped repeatedly during his heat who knows what they’d start to think. And Daryl doesn't want shit getting brought up. He doesn't want questions being asked and accusations being thrown, so if he has to zip his lips and put on a face to stop their inquires he will.

It’s been a few days since his talk with Tara and Daryl’s really trying to take her words to heart. He’s been spending more time with Rick, it’s still not as much time as they used to spend together but it’s something. He’ll brush his hand over Rick’s when they pass each other, lean against him for a few seconds when it’s just the two of them. Rick doesn't act like it’s a big deal, but he can tell it is by the way Rick’s face lights up when he does it. He knows that Daryl being so distant is killing his mate, he can see it on his face, but Daryl is confused and he’s been trying to sift through his different emotions. He doesn't want to cause Rick any pain.

He loves Rick, and he knows the man loves him, but it’s hard to go to him with everything he’s feeling. He feels disgusting, so fucking disgusting, and he doesn't understand why Rick’s not repulsed at the sight of him. He hadn't let the Governor or his men break him, but they had locked him into a breeding bench and raped him repeatedly. If that wasn't humiliating enough, Glenn had been a witness to the entire act. That's not something you just get over. He can still smell the revolting scent of the Alphas all over him and no matter how many times he showers he can’t get the feel of their hands off of him. He wants Rick, wants to go to him so badly, but he doesn't understand how Daryl could possibly be something that Rick still wants. Daryl’s disgusted when he looks in the mirror, how can Rick not be?

Daryl sighs heavily and looks up. The moon has shifted position drastically in the sky and Daryl realizes he has no idea how long he’s been out there. He decides to call it a night, throws down the pole he’s been using to kill walkers, and heads back into the prison.

He passes Maggie on the way in. She’s heading towards the guard tower so he’s sure she’s about to relieve whoever’s up there right now. Maggie doesn't say anything at first, just smiles at Daryl and lifts her hand in greeting. Daryl twitches his lips into a smile and waves back.

“Sleep well Daryl,” she says, smiling, as she passes him. She doesn't ask what Daryl’s been doing or why he’s out here so late which Daryl’s glad for. He hates having to explain himself. 

Daryl makes his way into the prison. The halls are pretty much empty, it’s dark and quiet and he knows most people are sleeping by now, so he’s quiet as he makes his way towards his cell block. He figures it’ll be empty, that everyone will be in their cells fast asleep, but when he walks in he sees that Rick’s up with Judith. She’s been fussy lately, Hershel thinks she might be starting to teeth, and has woken Rick up multiple times in the middle of the night because of it.

Rick’s sitting up against the wall. Judith’s settled comfortably in his lap, head resting in the crook of his arm, while Rick's his slide over the pages of a book. Judith’s got one of those teething rings clutched in her hands, chewing on it half-heartedly as her eyes start to slip closed. It’s helped a lot with her fussing over the past few weeks, thank god they’d been able to find it, and Judith really seemed to like chewing on it.

Daryl tries to be quiet once he realizes she’s almost asleep, but it’s too late. She’s already heard footsteps and is wide awake. She looks up, and giggles the second she lays eyes on him. Rick looks up at the sound and smiles. Daryl feels horrible, he knows Rick’s probably dead tired and Judith had been half asleep before he had walked in.

Judith makes grabby hands when he gets closer, and Daryl can’t help but bend down to press his lips against the top of her head. She giggles and fists her meaty hands in his shirt, begging to be picked up. Daryl has never been able to resist Judith’s pleas, so he picks her up and settles her on his hip.

She fists her hands in his shirt and babbles happily into his ear, all thoughts of teething rings gone. Daryl’s happy he still gets this reaction from her. He hasn't been spending as much time as he usually does with her and it’s been killing him.

“Hey baby girl,” he says, pressing his face in her soft curls. Judith’s the only one whose opinion of him hasn't wavered even a smidge. She’s just a baby, doesn't know what’s happened to him, all she knows is that she still wants her Daryl to pick her up. “Ya givin’ yer Daddy any trouble?” Daryl presses his lips against one of her smooth fists and she smiles up at him.

Rick smiles as he stands up, book left forgotten on the floor. “She’s been a little fussy, I think her teeth might be bothering her, but she hasn't been that bad.”

Daryl bends down to pick up her teething ring, wipes off any dirt that may be on it with his shirt sleeve, and hands it back to her. She takes it eagerly, chomping down on it, and her eyes start to close once again. Daryl looks up, Rick’s standing right there next to him, and he can’t resist what he does next.

Daryl rests his face against Rick’s chest, taking in the unmistakable scent of his Alpha. Rick smells like everything Daryl’s been aching for and more, and he wants nothing more than to just bury himself in the scent. But he knows he can’t, at least not right now. He wants Rick, wants to lay in his arms and let him take away his pain, but first he’s got to get his head screwed on straight.

“You want me to take her so you can catch some sleep?” Daryl asks softly. He doesn't move his face, not yet, and Rick doesn't do anything that’ll make Daryl want to move. He knows not to push him, to just let him do what he needs, and Daryl has never loved Rick more than he does right there. He's so understanding, has been more understanding about this whole situation than Daryl could have hope for, and Daryl doesn't deserve him.

“No,” Rick says, resisting the urge to run his fingers through Daryl’s hair. “You haven’t been to bed yet, you've got to be exhausted. I’ve already slept some, I’ll stay with her until she falls asleep.”

Daryl nods and presses a kiss against the top of Judith’s head as he slips her over into Rick’s arms. “I’ll see you in the morning,” Daryl says softly, pulling away from Rick.

Rick smiles and nods. “‘Course,” he says. “Sleep well Daryl.”

Daryl nods and retreats towards the stairs. He’s returned to sleeping in his perch, the only difference is that Rick refuses to let Daryl sleep on cold metal this time. He’d dragged an unused mattress up there for him the day they’d gotten back after the rescue and helped to make sure it was warm and comfortable.

Daryl knows he can go back to sleeping with Rick any time he wants, Rick wouldn't mind. Daryl had never liked cramped spaces but sleeping with Rick felt right, no matter how cramped the cells got. But right now the confined space reminds him too much of being tied down, and Daryl can’t handle it.

Daryl flops down on his mattress and pulls the blanket up and over his head. Daryl can hear Rick slowly start to sing, something he would claim he’s doing for Judith’s benefit if he were asked but Daryl knows he’s really doing it to help Daryl sleep. Even with him all the way up here, refusing to sleep with his mate, Rick is still doing whatever he can to take care of him. Daryl thinks once again he doesn't deserve someone like Rick.

Daryl’s exhausted, but Rick’s voice is soothing and makes is eyelids start to droop. In a matter of seconds Daryl’s eyes are slipping closed, falling asleep to the sound of his daughter cooing softly and his mate singing. It was the only comfort he found for a while.

* * *

_Daryl’s freezing, fucking freezing cold, and his entire body is on fire. It takes him a second to realize he’s lying against cold steel, the metal sticking to his skin in ways that are anything but pleasant. It doesn't take him long to realize he’s naked and strapped into the breeding bench, unable to move because of the restraints. He’s back in the Alpha house and he feels panic and bile rising in his stomach._

_All the sudden there’s hands, hands all of over him, touching, pinching, pulling. Daryl just wants them to stop, to go away, to leave him alone. Why the fuck won’t they just go away. He wants to be back in the prison where he’s comfortable and okay, where everyone is comfortable and okay. There’s pain, unimaginable pain, and Daryl’s screaming at the top of his lungs. It hurts, everything hurts so much, and he just wants it to stop. He wants Rick, needs Rick, but Rick’s not here and he’s completely by himself._

_He knows he’s tearing, that his ass is going to be in ruins after this, knows that he’s going to have finger shaped bruises all over his body for weeks, and he just wants it to stop. Why won’t it fucking stop. He thought he was done with this, Rick had come and gotten him hadn't he? Why was he here again, why won’t his pain just stop?_

_He feels someone pull out and immediately after another one takes his place, this man just even more brutal than the previous man. There’s no relief, no nothing, and Daryl’s sure he’s going to break. A sound he’s never made before escapes his throat and the men behind him laugh. They like his pain, it makes this better for them, and Daryl feels as if he’s going to be sick to his fucking stomach. He’s so tired, he’s in so much pain, and he just wants to sleep. But he can’t. Not when he’s in this position, not when his entire body is on fire, not when his chest hurts and he can’t breathe._

_“Such a good little bitch,” the Governor chants next to his ear and Daryl honestly feels like he’s going to be sick. His stomach twists, bile starts to rise, and he has to choke it down. He just wants this to stop, wants the hands to go away, but he can’t say anything. His head is wrenched back and the Governor presses against his mating mark, the mark that only Rick is supposed to touch, and pain explodes throughout him._

_“Don’t act like you weren't gagging for this,” the Governor says, and Daryl bites his tongue so hard he can taste blood in his mouth. He flinches when the Governor clamps a hand down on Daryl’s neck, and he only laughs. “You’re hole’s been dripping since the second we locked you into this thing. Don’t act like you don’t want this.”_

_Daryl doesn't say anything, Daryl can’t say anything. He’s so scared, so panicked, and his chest is starting to hurt. He feels the Governor sink his teeth into his neck, biting harshly at the tender flesh there, and Daryl screams out in agony. This can’t be happening, this can’t happening, he doesn't want anything on his skin that makes it look like he belongs to anyone but Rick. He-_

Daryl wakes up in a cold sweat, chest aching. He can still feel hands, hands everywhere. Clawing at his back, at his legs, at his chest. They won’t go away, _he wants them to go away_. He needs to get clean, get the feel of those wretched hands off of him, and the only way for him to do that is if he heads for the shower.

He sits up, frantically searching the room for a sign that anyone witnessed what had happened. There’s no sound, so Daryl must not have woken anyone up. Thank god. This isn't his first nightmare since the attack and he’s lucky no one witnessed it.

Daryl isn't sure what time it is but the cell block is still pitch black and the sky outside is dark, so he knows it’s late. He listens for the sound of anyone moving down below. After a few seconds he stands up and peaks over the railing. It’s empty, Rick must have gotten Judith to fall asleep and gone back to bed. He’s itching to look in on them, make sure everything’s okay, but Rick’s such a light sleeper he knows the second he steps into the room Rick’ll wake up and that’s the last thing he wants.

So he moves out of the cell block, glancing back once he’s out of the room to make sure he hadn't woken anyone up. After a few seconds of no sound Daryl makes his way towards the showers, trying his hardest not to wake anyone up. He doesn't hear a sound, doesn't see anybody on his way, and Daryl can't help but admit he's glad.

The showers are empty when he arrives, not surprising considering the time, and Daryl quickly strips out of his clothes. He wants to take a long hot scalding shower, something he can’t do with the resources that they have. Not that he’s complaining. He gets the shower going and lets the water run over him.

The feeling of hands on his sticky skin doesn't leave, he can feel them as they stroke their way up his back and down his thighs. Daryl has to fight back the urge to vomit. He doesn't know how long he stands there, how long he lets the water run down his back, but soon enough Daryl finds himself on the ground. His mind has wandered to things he really doesn't want to think about right now and he knows he’s dangerously close to a flashback.

Daryl curls up in a ball on the cold tile, knees pulled to his chest in a way that’s supposed to protect himself. He closes his eyes, squeezes them shut tightly in hopes to keep out the images that threaten to cloud his mind. Soon enough he realizes he’s crying, long gut wrenching sobs wracking his frame, and he really hopes nobody can hear him breaking down.

He just wants to go back, back to before he was taken by the Governor, when he and Rick where gonna try for their own pup. He wants to tell himself no, you can’t go on the run, nobody can go on the run because the damn Governor has been looking for ways to hurt Rick. He wants to go curl up in Rick’s arms and tell him he hurts and that he’s scared and that Rick's presence is the only thing that can make Daryl feel even remotely better. He wants to tell Rick that he feels disgusting and used and unwanted, that he feels like he’s betrayed him and he'll never understand how Rick can possibly still want to be around him after everything he’s done.

After a few minute of Daryl curled up on the cold tile, he starts to shake. His skin is freezing cold, nearly numb, and he knows he should go back to his perch. He stands up, turns off the water, and makes his way over towards the mirror. Daryl can see himself, see every inch of his body, and he absolutely hates everything he sees.

His torso is covered in mottled bruises in various different shades of healing. Most of them are an ugly yellowish green color and Daryl can’t stand to look at them. There’s cuts littering his body, marring his flesh even more than it already is, and he’s sure they’re going to leave some ugly scars. Just more reasons why he should be ashamed of how his body looks.

The Governor had used his knife to cut into Daryl's skin, leaving words and various symbols carved into him. Hershel’s not sure how well some of them are going to heal, but he did say a majority of them would heal with no scar. Daryl hadn't seen every word the Governor had carved into his skin as he was doing it, but now with him standing in front of a mirror he can see every last one of them.

The word whore is crudely written at the base of Daryl’s throat, the marks are already starting to fade and Hershel is fairly certain that there won’t be any sort of scar left behind. There’s other words as well, the Governor had had a hell of a time carving into his skin, but after two weeks they’re already starting to fade into nothing.

The real problem is the word carved into the space just under his collarbone. The Governor had taken his time on this one, carefully carving every letter into his flesh. Daryl knows he had wanted that one to scar, had wanted to leave his mark on Daryl’s skin, leave him with the memory of everything that he’d done to him. When Hershel had told him it was going to scar, Daryl had begged Hershel to do something to fix it, to make it go away, but Hershel had looked at him with such sadness Daryl knew there was nothing Hershel would ever be able to do to make it go away. Daryl would have the word knot slut carved into the skin under his collar, the spot opposite the side of Rick’s claim mark, for the rest of his life.

Daryl starts retching, stomach dry heaving as it attempts to spill his stomach’s contents. There’s nothing there, nothing he’s going to be able to throw up anyway, and Daryl just lets his body heave. How was he supposed to tell Rick that he’d have the mark of another alpha on his body for the rest of his life? How was he ever supposed to take his shirt off in front of his mate when there was a clear sign of all the hell the Governor had put him through staring him in the face?

Bile rises in his throat and he prays to god this isn't what he knows it could be, he doesn't know what he’d do if that were to happen. Daryl had told Hershel everything that had happened to him, including what the Alphas had done to him, and he’d only confirmed Daryl’s worst fears. There’s a very real chance he could start carrying. After all, he’d been fucked by multiple Alphas in the midst of his heat. Daryl had told Hershel that none of them had knotted him, but he said it didn’t matter. He’d been raped repeatedly by multiple guys and there’s a good chance some of their seed had stuck.

Daryl can’t do this anymore, can’t stand here like this anymore. He scrubs his body dry with a towel, roughly rubbing at his skin until it’s raw and hurting, before he pulls his clothes back on. He doesn't know how long he’s been gone, doesn't know how long it is until people will start waking up, so he carefully makes his way back to his perch.

Daryl lays in bed, unable to sleep. His body hurts, he’s cold, and he’s fucking terrified of what could happen. He can feel his body start to crave the comfort of his Alpha, and despite how awkward and terrifying the prospect of going to Rick is to him right now, Daryl can't fight the urge. It’s been nearly two weeks since they've shared a bed and all Daryl wants right now is to be enveloped in his embrace. His omega instincts are in need of comfort from his Alpha, and there's no way he's going to be able to deny himself much longer.

Daryl gets up and makes his way towards Rick's cell. He's quiet, the last thing he wants is to wake anyone else up. When he makes it to Rick’s cell, he slowly pushes aside the curtain and steps inside. First thing he does is check on Judith. She’s asleep in her crib, eyes moving back and forth slowly beneath her eyelids. Daryl notices her blanket’s slipped some so he carefully pulls it up a little so it’s completely covering her once again. Once he’s sure she’s safe and comfortable, Daryl turns to call out Rick’s name but there’s no need. He’s already awake.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Daryl says softly, not meeting Rick’s eyes. “I had a, well I just, I don’t know, maybe I should just go.” Daryl stumbles on his words, embarrassed, and he turns around, hell-bent on just going back to his mattress to lay in silence.

“Daryl,” Rick says, reaching forward to grip Daryl’s wrist gently. He almost expects to jump at the touch but this is Rick, Rick’s hands, and the second his skin meets Daryl’s he feels all the worry he’s got bottled up inside of him start to melt away. “You okay?” he asks softly.

Daryl opens his mouth to say yeah, of course, but the words get stuck in his throat. The truth is he's far from okay. Daryl swallows hard, hands wringing in front of him. He doesn't know what to say, how to broach the subject, and once again he regrets even coming here in the first place. Rick must be able to sense what Daryl’s thinking because he just smiles sadly and pulls back the blanket far enough so that Daryl can slip in underneath it.

Daryl slides into the familiar position next to his mate. He doesn't say anything, he’s not really sure if he should even say anything, but Rick’s okay with that. Rick doesn't touch him and Daryl can tell it’s because Rick doesn't want to freak him out, not because he’s repulsed. Rick watches as Daryl shifts his body slightly, maneuvering into a position that’s comfortable for him.

Daryl hurts everywhere, and all he wants is the comforting touch of his mate. Rick seems to catch on because he turns over so he’s lying on his back. He’s not forcing Daryl’s hand, Rick's just letting Daryl know that he’s comfortable with whatever Daryl wants. Daryl doesn't know how he could possibly have been lucky enough to get someone like Rick Grimes as his mate.

Daryl doesn't do anything for a few seconds, but Rick’s seems to be okay with that. He’s absolutely comfortable with whatever Daryl needs, and he’s going to wait patiently while Daryl prepares himself. After a few more minutes, Daryl finally gets up the courage to scoot over enough so his head is resting on Rick’s shoulder.

This is the best Daryl’s felt in a long damn time. It’s been way too long since he’s been this close to Rick and Daryl’s missed it more than he’s willing to admit. He’s finally starting to relax and right now all he wants is Rick’s arms around him. Rick must have picked up on that because it’s not long after Daryl thinks it that Rick moves his hand so it’s resting on his back.

Daryl hasn't felt this good since before the attack. He feels safe and comfortable and he can’t believe it. He’s been denying himself the comfort of his Alpha for almost two weeks now, and now that he’s in Rick’s arms his body is starting to finally relax. All the horrible feelings he’s been feeling fade away and he’s so glade he’s doing this.

Hesitantly Rick's hands start to smooth up and down Daryl’s back, not sure what he was comfortable with receiving, and when Daryl doesn't say anything Rick keeps doing it. Daryl can feel his eyes start to shift closed. He hasn't slept more than a few hours a day since before he was taken, and his lack of sleep is starting to catch up with him.

"What do you need from me?" Rick whispers, voice so soft Daryl can barely hear it.

Daryl doesn't want to say it, doesn't think he can say it, doesn't think he _deserves_ to say it. He’s been such a shitty omega these past weeks, he doesn't really get the right to ask his Alpha for anything.

But this is Rick, _his Rick,_  and right now all he wants is his arms around him. "Just hold me," Daryl whispers. “Please.”

He doesn't even care if it makes him sound like a pussy, he just wants to feel Rick’s arms around him right now. Daryl’s been denying himself any sort of comfort since the attack, and right now all he wants is for his Alpha to show him he still cares even after everything that’s happened.

"Of course," Rick says, voice not even hesitating. Rick’s hands tighten around his back slightly and Rick slowly moves a hand up and down Daryl’s back, soothing Daryl’s aching body. Rick’s voice starts to hum softly. There’s no words, just soft sounds, and Daryl’s eyes are already starting to shift close. Daryl realizes how much he’s missed the sound of Rick softly humming to him as his eyes start to drift shut. "I've got you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there my lovely readers. Hopefully this chapter was better than last chapter. This was actually hard to write, only because Daryl can be a very complicated character to do justice. I wanted to make him seem like he's falling apart, while still maintaining his strength (if that makes sense), and hopefully I didn't fail too horribly. Hopefully this chapter helps you understand what's going through Daryl's head right now and how he feels about being close to Rick. 
> 
> Someone commented a while ago that they wanted to see Daryl break down in the showers and I actually kind of liked the idea, thus we have the shower scene. I tried to make this shower scene compatible with the way the showers work at the prison (we see this at the end of 4x1) so hopefully that wasn't too confusing. 
> 
> If there's anything else you think should happen before I end this, let me know and I'll see what I can do. I know I've been saying this a lot but I really am getting close to winding this story down (but I'm still considering that sequel so we shall see). Just a few more chapters now.
> 
> Anyways, let me know what you thought.


	11. Hunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: some mentions of what's happened in previous chapters, but nothing is that graphic

_Rick makes his way down the stairs and into the unfamiliar basement. The walls are made of concrete and the air is frigid and cold. He sees him right away, his Daryl, and he hightails it straight to him. He’s briefly aware of Maggie heading towards the opposite side of the room, towards where Glenn is, but Rick pushes that out of his mind. He’s got Daryl in front of him and he’s got to make sure everything’s okay with him before he can think straight._

_Rick falls to his knees in front of Daryl, arms going out to reach for him. He’s covered in cuts and bruises, blood drying as it drips down his skin, and Rick’s stomach heaves. Daryl’s been through hell, it’s clear to see with just a simple glance at his skin, and it sickens him to think about. Rick can smell the scent of multiple Alphas on Daryl and he can see the evidence of a sexual attack, but he doesn't bring that up right away. Right now his first priority is to make sure Daryl’s okay._

_Rick rests a hand on the side of Daryl’s neck and is taken aback by just how cold his skin is. He’s freezing, Rick can tell, and Daryl’s body starts to shiver violently. “Daryl,” Rick says, hoping to wake Daryl from his unconscious state. “Daryl.”_

_Daryl’s eyes flit open and Rick feels a sense of relief wash through him. Daryl’s okay. “Rick?” he asks, voice raspy, and Rick can tell it’s probably been a while since he’s used it for anything but screaming. That thought alone makes Rick’s blood boil and he has to fight back the urge to hunt down every last one of the bastards who hurt his mate._

_I’m here. You’re okay,” Rick says, hands smoothing down Daryl’s neck. “It’s okay.”_

_Love you,” Daryl says, breathing starting to fade. “Love you so much, I’m sorry. So sorry-” Daryl says, before his eyes roll back in his head and he collapses._

_Rick doesn't get what’s happening at first but it isn't long before he can see the signs of something horrible happening. He screams Daryl’s name, starts to shake him awake. This can’t be happening, this can’t be fucking happening. He found him, he found Daryl, and now he’s supposed to be okay, that's how this kind of thing works._

_But Daryl’s not responding, Daryl won’t open his eyes, Daryl isn't making a sound, and suddenly Rick knows he’s gone. Daryl’s gone, he’s lost yet another mate, and his chest hurts so badly he can’t even move. His breathing gets rapid and Rick’s damn near inconsolable in a matter of seconds._

_Rick hears footsteps rapidly making their way down the stairs and Rick recognizes the familiar frame of Bob. He pushes Rick out of the way, tries to get to him in time to do anything, but Rick knows it’s too late. He can already feel their bond severing itself and he’s never been in so much pain before, both mental and physical. Daryl’s gone, Daryl’s fucking gone, and Rick doesn't know what to do._

_He collapses suddenly, loud sobbing shaking his frame as the emotions crash over him, and Rick buries his head in his hands. He briefly realizes he should probably be quiet, not make in loud noises so he doesn't wake the alphas in the house, but Rick can’t get himself under control. What’s he going to do now, what’s he supposed to tell the kids? Daryl was his mate, his true mate, and now he’s gone and-_

Rick jolts awake, chest hurting so badly he’s surprised he can even breathe properly. Overwhelming panic washes through him and his mind starts moving so fast he can’t keep up with it. But then he’s hit with familiar scent, Daryl’s scent, and he realizes it was just a dream, another horrible dream. He’d dreamt Daryl had been killed, murdered by the governor and his men. But no. Daryl is safe, Daryl is here, Daryl’s asleep in his arms and everything’s okay.

Daryl’s still sleeping, face nuzzled into the warm spot where his shoulder meets neck, and Rick’s never been so content in his life. He’s been having these nightmares almost every night since Daryl had been taken from him but he hasn't told anyone about them. Daryl’s having a hard enough time as it is, he doesn't need another thing to worry about.

It’s not long after Rick wakes that Daryl follows suit. He slowly blinks open his eyes and Rick’s got to say he’s missed this more than he’s willing to admit. He gets why Daryl’s been staying away from him, he’ll never push him into doing something before he’s ready for it, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss sleeping next to him every night. Even if this is only a once in a while thing, he’ll take it.

“Mornin’,” Rick says softly, pressing his lips gently against the side of his head. Daryl doesn't pull back, doesn't do anything that would signal Rick he’s not ready for this, and Rick can’t help but feel good about that.

“Mornin’,” Daryl repeats. He moves a finger up Rick’s arm, following the invisible trail with his eyes. After a few seconds Daryl looks up at Rick. He can tell Daryl’s struggling with something, something big, but Rick’s patient and he’ll wait as long as it takes for Daryl to be comfortable again.

Whatever Rick was expecting, it’s not this. Daryl surges forward and presses his lips against Daryl’s. The kiss is soft, gentle, but it’s something. It helps to calm Rick down and lets him know that everything is going to be okay, especially after the nightmare he had last night. “I’m sorry,” Daryl says softly, once he’s pulled away from Rick’s lips. “I’m so sorry.”

Rick’s confused, Daryl has no reason to be apologizing to him. “Why? You haven’t done anything, you have nothing to be sorry for, Daryl, absolutely nothing.”

“I’ve been a mess these past two weeks,” he says, ducking his head against Rick’s shoulder to hide his face. “I’ve been pushing you away and I know it hurts you, I hate seeing that hurt look on your face. I’m sorry.”

“Daryl,” Rick says, carefully forcing Daryl to look at him. He doesn't want to push Daryl into something he’s not comfortable with, but he’s not going to sit here and let him beat himself up about things he can’t control. “Don’t apologize, I’m not mad at you. I get it, I totally get it, and I’ll make sure you get whatever you need. If you need space, I’ll give you space. This is your call. You’re in charge here Daryl, we work at your pace.”

Daryl’s quiet for a while, contemplating Rick’s words, before he answers again. “Will you come hunting with me today, please?”

Rick’s not the least bit surprised Daryl’s asked him to go hunting. That was his fall back, what he did when he needed to clear his head, and it would surely give him the alone time he needs to talk to Rick about whatever he feels like talking about.

“Of course,” Rick says, soothing Daryl’s worry away with his hands. “Just the two of us.”

Daryl smiles at that. “Good.” He’s about to open his mouth again but Judith starts crying, letting them both know she’s awake and wants attention. “I’ll take her,” Daryl says as he rolls out of bed, slipping on his boots. “Give you a break.”

Rick smiles and slips out of bed after him. He’s got no problem with taking care of Judith, but Daryl hasn't spent as much time with her as he’d like to these past few weeks and Rick can tell he's itching to spend more time with her. “Sure Daryl,” he says, running a hand over Daryl’s arm, “whatever you want.”

* * *

 

A few hours later, Daryl and Rick are alone in the woods. They've been out here for almost an hour but haven’t found anything yet. Rick suspects it’s because Daryl’s too wound up to really hunt but he doesn't say anything about it.

Rick can tell Daryl’s nervous, he’s not as alert as he usually is and it’s clear to see his mind keeps wandering to other things. Rick watches Daryl for a few minutes, picking up on all the little signs that lets him know things definitely aren't alright with Daryl. Eventually he realizes Daryl’s gonna need a little help bringing up the topic so he decides to give Daryl the break he needs to start talking.

“Let’s take a break,” Rick says, sitting down on a nearby log. He doesn’t mention anything about talking, even though it’s clear that’s exactly what Daryl wants to do. Rick can’t push him on this subject, Daryl’s got to be the one to bring it up or it’ll never be genuine.

“Okay,” Daryl says, sitting down next to Rick. His body is tense, he can’t sit still, and Daryl’s chewing on his thumbnail, something he does when he’s agitated.

Still, Rick doesn't say anything. He takes out a water bottle and holds it out to Daryl. It takes some coaxing but eventually Daryl holds it to his lips and takes a few sips. There’s a few more minutes of silence before Daryl finally starts talking, and once he does he can’t stop.

“I was excited,” Daryl says, gaze trained on the ground. “Nervous, but excited. I’d never shared a heat with anyone, at least not willingly. My dad used my omega status to pay off debts to the Alphas he owed money to after I presented. They never fucked me, Dad didn’t want a pregnant omega, but they did enough to make me never trust another Alpha.”

“For years I was on suppressants, even after you claimed me. What we did was good, it was great, but I wanted more. I went into heat, and I was supposed to spend it with you. We were gonna spend it together, maybe have a pup, and everything was going to be good. That was our decision, that’s how it should have went, that’s how it was supposed to go.” Daryl clenches his hands together tightly, fingernails digging painfully into his skin. “I should have known better, nothing ever goes right when it comes to me.”

Rick closes his eyes, trying to block out the feelings of guilt he has. He still blames himself for what happened, no matter how illogical that is, and he thinks he probably always will.

“When I was down there,” Daryl starts off, licking his lips. He doesn’t reiterate what he means by ‘down there’ but Rick’s pretty certain he know what he’s referring to. “You were the only thing that kept me sane, the only thing that was able to keep me calm. I was… I was terrified, Rick, but you helped me, probably helped me more than anything else could have.” Daryl sighs, runs a hand through his hair.

“All I had to do was think about you and I was able to calm myself down. You were my anchor, Rick, the only thing that helped me hold out. The Governor wanted me to beg, wanted me to beg for him to take me. He tortured me hoping that I would start begging, but I didn’t. I held out, and that never would have happened if it wasn’t for you. I fought back, I put up a fight, but it wasn't enough.” Daryl stands up and starts pacing.

Rick’s not sure what he’s supposed to do, so he just sits there with his hands clasped. Thinking about what the Governor did to Daryl kills him, enrages him, and he reckons if the bastard wasn't already dead Rick would go and hunt him down himself. He tells himself no matter how hard it is to hear something like this it’s got to be ten times worse for Daryl to tell him and that helps to keep him calm.

“I didn’t want him,” Daryl says, looking over at Rick. “I only wanted you, _only you_. I didn’t let myself stoop as low as begging for him, not even when my heat got so out of control I could barely see straight. It was hell, absolute hell. I was in heat, the first heat I had had in years, and I needed relief so fucking bad you won’t even believe. But I never begged for him, not once.” Daryl’s pacing even faster now, wearing a trail into the ground under his feet

“When you came, all I wanted to do was cry. I wanted you to wrap me up in your arms and tell me that everything was going to be okay. Yeah, I realize I acted like a pussy. But I was just tired, tired of everything. I was tired, hungry, and sore as all fuck. I wanted to go back to the prison and lay with you, forget about everything that happened,” Daryl says, stopping so that he’s standing in front of Rick.

“But, then we went in that house and I saw the faces of the men who touched me. They all did, used me as much as they wanted, and I couldn’t stand the thought of looking at them. They disgusted me, made me feel sick. You were standing right next to me, the man that I love with everything that I have, _my mate_ , and we walked right past the men who I had had sex with just a few days before. I felt tainted, disgusted, and I didn’t want you to see me like that,” Daryl says, and it’s easy to see how much this is bothering him.

Daryl’s quiet, he’s not talking and he refuses to look at Rick. After a few seconds, Rick stands up. “Daryl,” he says, taking a step towards him. “Daryl please look at me.”

“I did what I did to protect the prison, to protect the people I love,” Daryl says, looking up at Rick. His eyes are red and it’s easy to tell he’s struggling with some sort of emotion. “You get that right? I didn’t- I didn’t want it, could never want anything like that. He wanted me to beg, but I didn’t. I fought my instincts, I didn’t give in, I was _strong._ ” Daryl’s voice breaks and he turns away from Rick once again.

“The only reason I crawled onto the breeding bench was because they held a gun to Glenn’s head, because he threatened Judith and Carl and everyone at the prison. I was protecting my family, I had to protect my family. That's my job, that's what I do. I protect the people I love. Please, please tell me you get that. I can’t,” Daryl stops, pinches the bridge of his nose and bows his head. “I can’t take it if you don’t get that.”

Rick’s never seen Daryl like this, scared and on the verge of breaking down. He’s acted so strong since the rescue, nearly untouchable, and Rick’s surprised it’s taken him this long to break down like this. Daryl’s damn near sobbing now, hiding his face like there’s something he needs to be ashamed of, and the entirety of it breaks Daryl’s heart.

“Daryl,” he says, resting a hand on the side of his face. “What happened to you was not your fault. I don’t blame you, I could never blame you. I don’t know what it’s gonna take for me to get you to realize that, but it’s the truth.” Rick can tell Daryl doesn't believe him so he tries again.

“Listen to me Daryl,” Rick says, forcing Daryl too look up at him. “You want to look strong in front of everyone at the prison, make yourself look invincible, and I get that. You don’t want to look weak, don’t want to look like what happened in that basement has affected you, and I’m totally cool with that. You do whatever you need to do to heal, that’s all I care about.”

Rick’s hand is still on the side of Daryl’s face and he takes the time to rub his thumb over his neck, trying to calm him down. “But don’t do it in front of me, don’t put on this front that makes you look stronger than you are. You’re struggling because you were attacked, and I know that nothing I say is gonna make that better. I just want you to know that you can break down in front of me, I ain't gonna judge you for that. Don’t hide how much you’re hurting from me. What happened to you? That doesn't change anything that I feel. You’re my mate, my lover, Daryl, and nothing that any sick bastard does to you will change that. You’re mine, and I’m yours, same as always.”

“I don’t get how you could possibly say that,” Daryl says, pulling away from him. “I feel disgustin’, tainted, and I don’t understand how you could want to be near me.”

Rick’s heart breaks when he realizes just how horrible Daryl feels about this whole situation. He wants to go back in time, prevent any of this from happening, but he can’t and that kills him. He’s about to say something else, anything else that could get Daryl to understand how he feels, but he’s cut off by Daryl’s next words.

“I’m tainted, do you even realize that? I had sex with who knows how many men. The governor strapped me into a breeding bench and then let his men have their way with me. The first heat I’ve had in years, the first heat I was going to share with you, and it gets ruined by a bunch of fucking knottheads.” Daryl says, pulling away from Rick so he can start pacing again.

“I was fucked by multiple men in the middle of my heat, do you know what that means?” Daryl says, voice getting louder the more worked up he gets. “I could be carrying the pup of a man who raped me, the pup of someone who isn’t you. That’s practically cheating. How can you even look at me, how can you stand to be in the same room as me, knowing that I’ve been with other men?”

Daryl looks so dejected, so defeated, Rick’s heart physically hurts. He doesn’t know how he can possibly fix this, how he can possibly convince Daryl that what happened to him doesn’t change his opinion of him. Rick opens his mouth, about to say something, but once again Daryl cuts him off.

“There’s a good possibility your mate is carrying some other person’s pup, and you can’t tell me that that’s not gonna set your alpha instincts off.” Daryl’s voice sounds so broken Rick can’t stand it. “Alphas don’t like being around other Alpha’s pups, regardless of who the other parent is. How could you still want me, knowing that there’s a good chance that something that could belong to the governor is growing inside of me?”

“Daryl,” Rick says, stepping up to Daryl. He puts his hands gently on the side of his neck, rests his forehead against Daryl’s, and slowly starts to calm the man down. He’s relieved when Daryl doesn’t try to pull away from him. “You’re my mate, _my true mate_ , and that means the world to me. I love you, every single part of you, and if you get pregnant because of this, we’ll deal with it. I’ll go along with whatever you want, it doesn’t matter what.

“You’ve already had so much taken from you, this decision is yours and I’ll support it. If you get pregnant and want to keep the baby, I will fucking raise the shit out of that kid. Because anything that comes from you deserves to have the world handed to it on a silver platter. I’ll raise it as my own and I swear to you that I will never let it think it’s not loved because it isn’t biologically mine. If you find that you can’t keep the baby, I’ll help you come up with some alternative solutions, Daryl. You’re not alone, you don’t have to do this by yourself.”

“I wanted to have a pup that was mine and your blood, that’s all I wanted,” Daryl says after a minute of silence, finally looking up at Rick. “How can you possibly want to be with me now? I mean, look,” Daryl says, pulling down his shirt enough to expose his collarbone. “Not only am I tainted, but I’m marked as well. I’ll have this for the rest of my life, there’s nothing Hershel can do to get rid of it.”

Rick has to admit, he’s slightly taken aback by what he sees. He hasn’t seen Daryl’s upper chest since the attack and had no idea he had a mark like that on him. It’d been too dark in the basement to see properly and Rick had been too focused on Daryl’s face to notice he had had such a derogatory word carved into his skin. The skin is red and inflamed, but he can clearly make out the words that are carved there.

Rick feels rage well up in him, uncontrollable rage, and he has to resist the urge to strike out against the nearest tree. The last thing he wants Daryl to think is that he’s mad at him, because that’s the furthest thing from the truth. He’s pissed, pissed beyond belief, but not at Daryl. At the men who thought it was okay to do this to the person he loves. The idea of Daryl carrying the mark of another man sickens him. Not because he feels like his omega has been claimed by someone else, Rick would never think something like that. But because it hurts Daryl, makes him feel unwanted and unloved, and Rick just wants to erase the entire mark.

Rick doesn’t say anything, just rests his face against the words on Daryl’s collarbone for a few seconds before he pulls away. He rubs gently at the agitated skin before he looks up at Daryl. The words don’t mean a thing to him, they certainly don’t make him feel any differently than he does and he needs to make sure that Daryl realizes that. He doesn’t say anything, just gently runs his hands over Daryl’s skin, and Rick can tell by the reaction that Daryl gets what he’s trying to say.

“If that’s still something you want one day, we’ll go for it Daryl,” he says softly. “It’s not completely off the table. This, all of this, is your call, I’ll gladly take the back seat on this one. Whatever you want, whatever you’re comfortable with, we’ll do. Because you deserve at least that much. You suffered a severe trauma and have had so much taken from you the past few weeks, it’s time you start making your own decisions. You deserve the absolute best Daryl, and I swear I’m going to help you realize that.”

Daryl doesn’t say anything, just rests against Rick’s chest. His head comes to rest on Rick’s shoulder and Rick wraps his arms around him, slowly stroking his back. They stand like that for a while, Rick’s not sure how long, but he knows that eventually they’re going to have to pulls apart.

“Thank you,” Daryl whispers after a while, pulling back so he can look Rick in the eyes. “Thank you, you always know what to say.”

“Of course,” Rick says, wiping at Daryl’s eyes gently. This is the most intimate the two of them have been in a while and Rick’s so glad they’re starting to patch things up.

“We should probably go,” Daryl says, looking up at the sky. “It’s getting late, the prison will start to worry if we stay out too late.”

Rick nods and starts heading towards the prison. Daryl walks next to him, hand brushing over his every few steps. After a few minutes of them walking in silence he feels Daryl reach out to grab his hand. Rick doesn’t say anything, but inside he’s beaming.

It’s a step in the right direction. Rick tightens his grip on Daryl’s hand and together the two of them make their way home. It’s definitely not perfect, but it’s getting there and that’s all that really matters to Rick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so weird saying this, but I think this story has come to an end. This is so weird for me. This story has been kind of like my little baby and I don't know if I'm ready to let go of it yet. I was actually expecting to write at least one more chapter. I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter but I think I'm going to end it here. It sounds like as good place as any to stop.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's commented/kudo'd/bookmarked/etc this story. Really, your support is what's kept me going.
> 
> Now, as I've mentioned before I am contemplating a sequel. Really it just depends on what my readers want, it could go either way. If I do write a sequel it will probably (but not definitely) involve mpreg. That's a topic I don't have much experience writing but I think I'd be down for doing it. Plus, I really want to expand on Tara and Beth's relationship and any sequel I write will definitely be dedicated in part to that. 
> 
> Anyways, let me know what you thought (both about this story and the possibility of a sequel).


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